Walk With Me
by prhood
Summary: While Elizabeth gets a bit of excellent advice from her friend Charlotte Collins while staying at the Hunsford Parsonage, it is the fact that the encounter with Colonel Fitzwilliam occurs a day early that changes the dynamics of her stay at the Parsonage.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue - Letters from Hunsford**

 _Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery, I quit such odious subjects as soon as I can, impatient to restore everybody not greatly in fault themselves to tolerable comfort, and have done with all the rest. Jane Austen_

Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent

March 5, 1812

Dearest Jane,

We have arrived and, I assure you, been most affectionately welcomed by Charlotte and our cousin who has not altered in manners in any particulars that I can discern. I admit the pleasure on Charlotte's countenance renders me more and more satisfied with coming to see her.

I was prepared to see our cousin in all his glory and was not disappointed; I cannot help but fancy that in displaying his house, the good proportion of its rooms, its aspects and its furniture, he was addressing himself particularly to me, as if hoping to make me feel what I had lost in refusing him. If so, I was not able to gratify him at all and, in truth, I can only wonder at Charlotte's having so cheerful an air with such a companion. Whenever our cousin uttered one of his more inane statements – a not infrequent event, I could not help but glance at Charlotte; at worst I saw a faint blush of mortification but usually she appeared to have not heard what was said. I admire her immensely and consider her hearing problem fortuitous.

The house is rather small, but well built and convenient; and everything is fitted up and arranged with a neatness and consistency which is a credit to Charlotte, I am sure. The garden is large and well laid out and our cousin is much engaged in its cultivation and to work in it appears to be one of his great pleasures. Charlotte owns that she encourages it as much as possible – I could not but admire her management of her husband which is surely necessary in such a marriage. There is really a great air of comfort throughout the house - if one could forget our cousin's presence - and by Charlotte's evident enjoyment of it, I can only suppose he is often forgotten.

From the garden there are many pleasant views but none could compare, our cousin avers, with the prospect of Rosings, afforded by an opening in the trees that border the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It was a handsome modern building, well situated on rising ground; however, I saw nothing to amaze me.

I have been told that Lady Catherine is still in the country and that we will have the honour of seeing her next Sunday at church. I expect to be quite delighted with her. Our cousin assures me of her affability and condescension and when I consider Mr. Wickham's account of her, I expect to be hugely amused. We apparently can anticipate frequent sources of such amusement since we are to be honoured twice a week by being allowed into her presence.

I have little more to write. Please assure my little cousins that I miss them already; that I could wish for your company here hardly needs saying but I think the company of our aunt and uncle to be much more to your benefit. Till my next letter, I remain,

Your most affectionate sister,

Elizabeth

Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent

March 12, 1812

Dearest Jane,

I will not bore you with further evidence of our cousin's foolishness; my letter after I first arrived has, I hope, satisfied any cravings as you might unwisely suffer in that regard. You will be pleased to know that our cousin has not changed in any particular. He is as he ever was; a unique mixture of pride and humility, obsequiousness and self-importance. As our father was wont to say, a little of Mr. Collins' company can suffice for several days, if not longer. I have already a surfeit and have been here but a week – by the time I leave, I suspect to have enough for a year or more; but no more of our cousin. Last night we were privileged to dine with his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

After being assured by him that the lady would not think less of me if I was simply dressed, since she likes the distinction of rank preserved, I resisted the temptation to wear my oldest gown, and satisfied myself with that light yellow one that I bought before Christmas. It hasn't been seen by the company here and must count as new, I suppose. Dressing was quite an experience. I rather thought our Mama was present as our cousin must have urged me several times to hurry my dressing since Lady Catherine does not like to be kept waiting. Poor Maria was quite discomposed which, given her lack of sense, did not portend well for the evening.

Our cousin waxed rapturously as we walked the half mile to Rosings about the plenitude of windows and the cost of glazing so as to quite upset Sir William and overset Maria altogether. For myself, I had heard nothing of Lady Catherine to inspire awe from any extraordinary talents or miraculous virtue, and the mere stateliness of money and rank I believed myself capable of witnessing without trepidation. Once we had arrived, our introduction was performed by Charlotte, which I doubt not shortened the time required by our cousin as those apologies and thanks were omitted which he believes so necessary.

Rosings is, I imagine, quite grand although I believe it gaudy and uselessly fine, meant to impress by a display of wealth with little true comfort or elegance. Sir William was so overwhelmed, however, that his bow was so low as to cause me concern that he might be unable to rise or indeed might fall forward, while Maria was rendered virtually senseless – perhaps an improvement, although I suspect you would tell me I am being too unkind – poor Maria – truthful, but unkind. Lady Catherine is a tall, large woman, with strongly marked features, which might once have been handsome. Her air is not conciliating, nor is her manner of receiving us such as to make us forget our inferior rank. She is not rendered formidable by silence; but whatever she says is spoken in so authoritative a tone as to mark her self-importance. She does, in countenance and deportment, bear some resemblance to Mr. Darcy although she could well benefit from his habit of silence. Lady Catherine's daughter bears no similarity in face or figure to her mother, being thin, small and speaking little except to her companion, a Mrs. Jenkinson of whom there is little that is remarkable.

The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were all the servants, and all the articles of plate which our cousin had promised; and, when he took his seat at the bottom of the table, by her ladyship's desire, he looked as if he felt that life could furnish nothing greater. My dear Jane, he carved, and ate, and praised with delighted alacrity; and every dish was commended, first by him, and then by Sir William, who was now enough recovered to echo whatever our cousin said. I wondered that Lady Catherine could bear it but she seemed most gratified by their excessive admiration, and gave most gracious smiles. Her ladyship was not disposed to allow any share of the conversation to belong to anyone else, a state which continued when we retired to the drawing room. I longed for my father. How he would have enjoyed the opportunity to gently expose the follies of our company. I can almost hear his strictures now; of course, Lady Catherine would hardly allow such a trespass on her dignity. To be banished from her company would, however, be no punishment and, if I were not a guest of my dear Charlotte and concerned for her well-being, I would gladly forsake the pleasure of Lady Catherine's company. However, such cannot be; fortunately we are called but once or twice a week. Suffice it to say that the evening surpassed all of my expectations of impertinence, misguided condescension and foolish arrogance. I can want for nothing more I assure you.

Oh Jane! I am so glad our father supported me in refusing our cousin's offer of marriage. I could not have borne Lady Catherine's interference in my household concerns. I can only marvel at Charlotte's ability to do so. Her ladyship enquired into Charlotte's domestic concerns familiarly and minutely, and gave her a great deal of advice as to the management of them all; told her how everything ought to be regulated in so small a family as hers, and instructed her even as to the care of her cows and her poultry. When not instructing Charlotte, she addressed a variety of questions to Maria and to myself particularly, of whose connections she knew the least. I am, I learned, a very genteel, pretty kind of girl. Mama will be so pleased! Her ladyship asked me, at different times, how many sisters I had, whether they were older or younger than myself, whether any of them were likely to be married, whether they were handsome, where they had been educated, what carriage out father kept, and what had been our mother's maiden name?

It took, I assure you, all my composure to answer these questions without becoming impertinent in turn. Unfortunately, my forbearance seemed only to encourage her ladyship who then began to inquire minutely into my accomplishments. She was most distressed that none of us draw, had not been taken to London to be taught by masters and that we had no governess – I admit to agreeing with her on this matter, a situation which is noteworthy only for its rarity. However, when she heard that all of my sisters were 'out', she could hardly believe it and was not at all amused by my touch of impertinence when I said that I thought it would be very hard upon my younger sisters, that they should not have their share of society and amusement because you and I may not have the means or inclination to marry early. The last born has as good a right to the pleasures of youth, as the first, said I. And to be kept back on such a motive! I told her I thought it would not be very likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind. While I defended our family in this, I must admit that when I consider Kitty and Lydia's behaviour, I feel some agreement with her ladyship. To agree twice in one evening with her ladyship! – do not tell our father, please. I should be teased for a half year altogether.

I will not bore you with the rest of the evening. We played casino until such time as Lady Catherine had played as long as she wished and then we were sent home – in her ladyship's carriage no less. Our journey back to the Parsonage was brief but our cousin was most desirous of hearing my praises of Rosings and Lady Catherine; unfortunately, they appeared to be insufficient and he most readily assumed the burden of providing them for me.

You may be assured that I have spared your sensibilities by forbearing to relate much of the foolishness that I have endured. I truly envy you to be staying with our aunt and uncle. I suspect there is more sense spoken at Gracechurch Street in five minutes than would be heard in Rosings in a month.

Sir William returned home today; and I wonder whether I will be exposed to more of my cousin's company than has been the case hitherto. Sir William and he have spent much of their mornings driving around in our cousin's gig, which left the rest of us free to pursue our particular interests. I can only hope that our cousin has sufficient employment to occupy his time without reference to me.

I will not bore you further. Give my hugs and best wishes to those four imps that reside with you and another to my aunt and uncle. I am enjoying myself here but envy you their company and that of my small cousins. There are a number of wonderful paths to walk here at Hunsford near and in Rosings Park. I can just imagine their exuberance and shouts of glee as they would run about unfettered. It would make my own walks that much more enjoyable to be in their company here and yours as well. I know our young cousins too well and I am sure that you are being persuaded to spoil them badly – a privilege afforded to an older cousin I am sure – be it by reading stories to them past their bedtimes, playing games with them when they are supposed to be studying, taking them for walks … Well, you understand my meaning I am sure!

The small dinner party you attended with our aunt and uncle sounds, from your praise, to have been pleasant; you have no idea how much I miss intelligent and interesting conversation. If it were not for Charlotte, I would, in the words of our father, 'not hear two words of sense in the course of a day' and poor Charlotte has too many demands on her time to give more than a small portion to me. I am not complaining at all, just very, very envious.

You mention that you will be attending an art exhibit; I confess I have much less interest in, and knowledge of, art than you – I know what I like and what I don't like, and that is the best one can say of my accomplishment in that area. I hope you will enjoy it hugely. I will spare you any further effusions. I will plague you again with another letter in a week. Until then I remain

Your most loving and envious sister,

Elizabeth

Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent

March 19, 1812

Dearest Jane,

I have been here a fortnight now and we seem to have settled into a routine of sorts. You may remember my concern that, with the departure of Sir William, we might enjoy more of my cousin's company; fortunately, that is not the case. He spends the chief of his time between breakfast and dinner either at work in the garden, or in reading and writing, and looking out of window in his own book room, which fronts the road. The room in which we pass most of our time faces the back of the house and I rather wondered why it should be so since the dining parlour is a better sized room, and has a pleasanter aspect; but I quickly realized that Charlotte has an excellent reason for what she did, for our cousin would undoubtedly be much less in his own apartment, if we were to sit in one that afforded him both a view and lively company. I must give Charlotte credit for the arrangement. Mr. Collins is assiduous in his duty to keep us informed of what carriages come along; and especially how often Miss De Bourgh drives by in her phaeton. She not infrequently stopped at the Parsonage, and had a few minutes' conversation with Charlotte, but can scarcely ever be prevailed upon to get out.

Very few days passed in which our cousin does not walk to Rosings and not many in which Charlotte does not accompany him. I wondered at this until I realized that there might be other family livings to be disposed of. Now and then, we are honoured with a call from her ladyship, and nothing escapes her observation of what was passing in the room during these visits. She examines into their employments, looks at their work, and advises them to do it differently; finds fault with the arrangement of the furniture, or detects the housemaid in negligence; and, if she accepts any refreshment, seems to do it only for the sake of finding out that Charlotte's joints of meat are too large for her family.

The entertainment of dining at Rosings is repeated about twice a week – although we now have but one card table which allows me to escape the activity quite often; every such entertainment is the counterpart of the first and the pleasure has diminished in direct measure to the number of visits. I can state with no uncertainty that Lady Catherine's company does not improve upon further acquaintance. Our other engagements are few; as the style of living of the neighbourhood in general is beyond the reach of our cousin and Charlotte. This, however, is no evil to me, and, upon the whole, I spend my time comfortably enough; there are half hours of pleasant conversation with Charlotte, and the weather is so fine that I have great enjoyment out of doors.

We are soon to expect an addition to the family at Rosings; Mr. Darcy is expected to arrive tomorrow. While I cannot view his company with any great pleasure, his coming should provide a new face for the parties at Rosings. Lady Catherine is, I assure you, most displeased that Maria and I have already made his acquaintance, and that she will be denied the pleasure of introducing him to us.

Your account of the theatre play was most entertaining; although I had not known you to have any liking for tragedies. Macbeth surely must have strained your appreciation for evil. How much I could wish to hear you explain the goodness in Lady Macbeth. I am sure you would be able to find some great goodness in her – love for her husband perhaps? – And that the whole business was a most unfortunate misunderstanding and that Lady Macbeth never meant to kill anyone. I should not tease you so, I know, but your goodness is so steady that I am sure you will forgive me – eventually.

Have you visited the bookstores recently? I hope to do so when I return to London as there are several books of poetry that I wish to find and I had heard of a new novel by a lady author that I thought to buy. It was first published just last year and is, I have been told, written very sensibly – not a haunted castle to be found anywhere and the chief characters are young ladies such as ourselves.

Give my young cousins my usual measure of hugs and best wishes and tell my aunt and uncle that I can hardly bear the period before rejoining you all in London. I remain,

Your most affectionate, and not too bored, sister,

Elizabeth

Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent

March 26, 1812

Dearest Jane

Another epistle from Hunsford. The only excitement this week was the arrival of visitors to Rosings; yes, visitors for we were blessed with not one but two of Lady Catherine's nephews. Mr. Darcy we had long expected but he had the courtesy to bring his cousin with him, a Colonel Fitzwilliam, and thus spare us the tedium of his company.

The Colonel is the younger son of his uncle, Lord Matlock; is about thirty, not handsome, but in person and address most truly the gentleman. He and Mr. Darcy called on the Parsonage the morning following their arrival. Mr. Darcy looked just as he used to look in Hertfordshire, paid his compliments to us all, with his usual reserve, and said little else for the duration of the visit apart from a slight observation on the house and garden to Charlotte; Colonel Fitzwilliam, however, entered into conversation with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly. They stayed for only about a quarter hour.

Colonel Fitzwilliam has called at the Parsonage again more than once since his arrival, but Mr. Darcy did not accompany him - which neither surprises me nor vexes me at all. With the extra company at Rosings, Lady Catherine appears most willing to forego the pleasure of ours; and apart from the Colonel, I find I can bear the deprivation quite well.

I find I have little new to tell you; our days here have a uniformity of activity that is quite unvarying. I have my walks and my talks with Charlotte; we visit the village quite frequently although it has little more to recommend it than Meryton. I am not unhappy or dissatisfied - do not believe that to be the case. I dare say I would be in equal spirits if I were at home; although here I am spared Mama's nerves, at least.

Your letter had one beneficial effect – it raised my spirits; I am happy to read that you were invited to dine with friends of our uncle. They sounded most delightful – can I hope that their other guest, Mr. Chaulker, was handsome and amiable? I am sure that he was most delighted to be sitting beside you during the meal. You are sly though – not mentioning his attentions to you. My aunt was more forthcoming in her letter – did he indeed call upon you the next day? You must not be reserved with me, dear sister for you know I shall winkle it all out of you eventually.

I must heartedly thank you for sending me that present. You can imagine my surprise to open it and find a copy of 'Sense and Sensibility'. I had not thought you would do anything of the sort; indeed, I had not been aware that I had revealed so much as to allow you to know my preference. I must be even more discrete I fear. Allow me to tell you that I am enjoying it a great deal and I am sure that you will as well. I find that the main character, Elinor, reminds me very much of my dear elder sister. Such a command of her sensibilities, and her manner to all she meets, cannot be recommended too highly. I will spare your blushes and disclaimers. Let it be known that you are the dearest and best of sisters, and protest no more.

My thoughts are with you all at Gracechurch Street and every week that passes brings me closer to you. I remain, as ever,

Your most devoted sister,

Elizabeth

Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent

April 2, 1812

Dearest Jane

I am afraid our cousin has been in some distress for the last week; it appears our company is by no means so acceptable as when Lady Catherine can get nobody else. We were not invited to dine at all this past week with her nephews to provide her with subjects to talk at and we were merely asked on leaving church today to come there in the evening and we could not, of course, decline such an invitation.

Her ladyship received us civilly, but she was, in fact, almost completely engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room.

Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see us; his manners are admirable and I seemed to be of particular interest. He seated himself by me quite quickly, and we talked agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and music, that I have never been half so well entertained in that room before. Unfortunately, it seems that we conversed with so much spirit, as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine as well as that of Mr. Darcy. Her ladyship could hardly bear to have a conversation of which she did not have the major part and did not scruple to interrupt. It certainly was effective and we were unable to resume any comfortable conversation.

Her ladyship's kindness knows few bounds; I have been informed that I am in want of practice on the pianoforte and, if I should wish to remedy this deficiency, I may use the pianoforte in Miss de Bourgh's companion's room since I will be 'in nobody's way, you know, in that part of the house'. Even Mr. Darcy had the grace to be embarrassed at his aunt's incivility. I have learned one thing of interest last evening. Lady Catherine informed us that, if she had ever bothered to learn to play the pianoforte, she would have been a great proficient. I must remember to inform her that should I have ever learned to speak Italian, I should also be a great proficient.

I was prevailed upon later to demonstrate my lack of accomplishment – Miss Bingley would have been so pleased – at the pianoforte; but since it spared me her ladyship's further attentions, I cannot repine to so exhibit. It could not have been too poorly done, since I drew the attention of both her ladyship's nephews. Yes! Even Mr. Darcy deigned to afford me his attention. We wound up arguing, although not impolitely I assure you, and I was able to tease him about his behaviour at the Meryton assembly where we first made his acquaintance. His excuse was that he had not been introduced to any lady apart from his party and claimed to be ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers. I dismissed his excuse and asked him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill-qualified to recommend himself to strangers? The good Colonel answered for his cousin, and accurately I believe, saying that Mr. Darcy would not give himself the trouble.

Her ladyship could not, once more, endure the prospect of there being a conversation in which she had no part, and interrupted to provide a critique of my playing, I apparently have a good notion of fingering but my taste is deficient, I need to practice more and should avail myself of a London master.

Her Ladyship was never at a loss for an opportunity to praise her daughter for accomplishments she did not possess by virtue of being unable to acquire them due to her poor health. Lady Catherine's purpose is clear – to forward an arrangement between her daughter and Mr. Darcy; however, I cannot believe it likely. I cannot discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behaviour to Miss de Bourgh, I can as readily believe him to marry Miss Bingley as his cousin – which is to say, neither of them.

It grows late and I believe I will finish this letter in the morning.

In resuming, I am reminded of the past evening. It was one of the more memorable evenings at Rosings and I suspect that it will not be repeated too soon. I believe that Lady Catherine and I are of a like mind and desire on this prospect at least.

Dearest Jane, in the course of a visit that provided a number of different happenings, this morning has perhaps provided the oddest. I am resuming this letter once more after being interrupted by a visit from Mr. Darcy. I cannot account for his visiting alone – without Colonel Fitzwilliam - it has not happened before. He apparently was expecting Charlotte and Maria as well as myself, but they both had business in the village. He found me alone and stayed.

It was most uncomfortable; I hardly knew what to say and ventured several topics. It distresses me to relate them to you but we have already reached similar conclusions and Mr. Darcy but verified those. It appears that Mr. Bingley may spend very little of his time at Netherfield in future. According to Mr. Darcy, he has many friends, and is at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually increasing.

I suggested that, in this event, it would be better for the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we might possibly get a settled family there. Mr. Darcy thought that to be quite likely.

I could find nothing further to say and left it to him to begin a conversation, which he did by commending the house and showing some good sense by praising Charlotte, saying our cousin was fortunate in his choice of a wife. I did not hide my opinion that she has an excellent understanding - though I admitted to being uncertain that her marrying Mr. Collins was the wisest thing she ever did. However I could not deny her happiness and conceded that, in a prudential light, it is certainly a very good match for her.

We talked on some inconsequential matters for a few more minutes until Charlotte and Maria returned. Mr Darcy took his leave shortly thereafter.

Charlotte made an immediate leap of fancy, claiming he would not have called on the Parsonage in such a familiar way if he were not in love with me; but, when I told them of his silence, she agreed that it seemed unlikely. After various conjectures, we could at last only suppose his visit to proceed from the difficulty of finding anything to do, which was the more probable from the time of year.

I can say no more, if I am to get this letter to the post on time. As ever I am,

Your most loving sister,

Elizabeth


	2. Chapter 2

**A Walk In The Park**

More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the Park, unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought; and, to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him at first that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even a third. It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance, for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal enquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or of listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third encounter that he was asking some odd, unconnected questions - about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins's happiness; and that in speaking of Rosings, and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too. His words seemed to imply it. Could he have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts? She supposed, if he meant anything, he must mean an allusion to what might arise in that quarter. It distressed her a little, and she was quite glad to find herself at the gate in the pales opposite the Parsonage.

She was engaged one day, as she walked, in reading once more Jane's last letter, and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane had not written in spirits, when, instead of being again surprised by Mr. Darcy, she saw on looking up, that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her. Putting away the letter immediately and forcing a smile, she said, "I did not know before that you ever walked this way."

"Well, Darcy had mentioned in passing that he had encountered you here. I found myself free of duties this morning and thought to join you should that prove possible."

"I wonder at Mr. Darcy pursuing such activities. It is not apparent that he finds much pleasure in them."

"I am sure he finds the company quite pleasant. Who would not?" The Colonel's gallant speech drew a small smile from Elizabeth, "I can assure you, sir, Mr. Darcy has learned to mask his pleasure quite well."

"His manner, I admit, is not one to readily display such pleasure as he may experience. But are you soon to return to the Parsonage?"

"Yes, I should have turned in a moment." And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the Parsonage together.

"Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?" said she.

"Yes - if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. He arranges the business just as he pleases."

"And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at least great pleasure in the power of choice. I do not know anybody who seems more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr. Darcy."

"He likes to have his own way very well," replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. "But so we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it than many others, because he is rich, and many others are poor. I speak feelingly. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and dependence."

"In my opinion, the younger son of an Earl can know very little of either. Now, seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial and dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going wherever you chose, or procuring anything you had a fancy for?"

"These are serious questions - and perhaps I cannot say that I have experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters of greater weight, I may suffer from the want of money. Younger sons cannot marry where they like."

"Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very often do."

"Our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are not many in my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to money."

"Is this," thought Elizabeth, "meant for me?" and she coloured at the idea; but, recovering herself, said in a lively tone, "And pray, what is the usual price of an Earl's younger son? Unless the elder brother is very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds."

He answered her in the same style, and the subject dropped. To interrupt a silence which might make him fancy her affected with what had passed, she soon afterwards said, "I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of having somebody at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to secure a lasting convenience of that kind. But, perhaps his sister does as well for the present, and, as she is under his sole care, he may do what he likes with her."

"No," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, "that is an advantage which he must share with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy."

"Are you, indeed? And pray what sort of guardians do you make? Does your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age are sometimes a little difficult to manage and, if she has the true Darcy spirit, she may like to have her own way."

As she spoke, she observed him looking at her earnestly, and the manner in which he immediately asked her why she supposed Miss Darcy likely to give them any uneasiness, convinced her that she had somehow or other got pretty near the truth. She directly replied, "You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her; and I dare say she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world. She is a very great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that you know them."

"I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant gentleman-like man - he is a great friend of Darcy."

"Oh! Yes," said Elizabeth drily, "Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr. Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him."

"Care of him! - Yes, I really believe Darcy does take care of him in those points where he most wants care. From something that he told me in our journey hither, I have reason to think Bingley very much indebted to him. But I ought to beg his pardon, for I have no right to suppose that Bingley was the person meant. It was all conjecture."

"What is it you mean?"

"It is a circumstance which Darcy, of course, would not wish to be generally known, because if it were to get round to the lady's family, it would be an unpleasant thing."

"You may depend upon my not mentioning it."

"And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it to be Bingley. What he told me was merely this; that he congratulated himself on having lately saved a friend from the inconveniences of a most imprudent marriage, but without mentioning names or any other particulars, and I only suspected it to be Bingley from believing him the kind of young man to get into a scrape of that sort, and from knowing them to have been together the whole of last summer."

"Did Mr. Darcy give you his reasons for this interference?"

"I understood that there were some very strong objections against the lady."

"And what arts did he use to separate them?"

"He did not talk to me of his own arts," said Fitzwilliam, smiling. "He only told me what I have now told you."

Elizabeth made no answer, and walked on, her heart swelling with indignation. After watching her a little, Fitzwilliam asked her why she was so thoughtful.

"I am thinking of what you have been telling me," said she. "Your cousin's conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he to be the judge?"

"You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?"

"I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the propriety of his friend's inclination, or why, upon his own judgment alone, he was to determine and direct in what manner that friend was to be happy. But," she continued, recollecting herself, "as we know none of the particulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposed that there was much affection in the case."

"That is not an unnatural surmise," said Fitzwilliam, "but it is lessening the honour of my cousin's triumph very sadly."

This was spoken jestingly, but it appeared to her so just a picture of Mr. Darcy that she would not trust herself with an answer; and, therefore, abruptly changing the conversation, talked on indifferent matters till they reached the Parsonage. There, shut into her own room as soon as their visitor left them, she could think without interruption of all that she had heard. It was not to be supposed that any other people could be meant than those with whom she was connected. There could not exist in the world two men over whom Mr. Darcy could have such boundless influence. That he had been concerned in the measures taken to separate Mr. Bingley and Jane, she had never doubted; but she had always attributed to Miss Bingley the principal design and arrangement of them. If his own vanity, however, did not mislead him, he was the cause, his pride and caprice were the cause, of all that Jane had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He had ruined for a while every hope of happiness for the most affectionate, generous heart in the world; and no one could say how lasting an evil he might have inflicted.

"There were some very strong objections against the lady," were Colonel Fitzwilliam's words, and these strong objections probably were, her having one uncle who was a country attorney, and another who was in business in London.

"To Jane herself," she exclaimed, "there could be no possibility of objection. All loveliness and goodness as she is! Her understanding excellent, her mind improved, and her manners captivating. Neither could anything be urged against my father, who, though with some peculiarities, has abilities which Mr. Darcy himself need not disdain, and respectability which he will probably never reach."

When she thought of her mother, indeed, her confidence gave way a little, but she would not allow that any objections there had material weight with Mr. Darcy, whose pride, she was convinced, would receive a deeper wound from the want of importance in his friend's connections, than from their want of sense; and she was quite decided at last, that he had been partly governed by this worst kind of pride, and partly by the wish of retaining Mr. Bingley for his sister.

The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned brought on a headache; and it grew so much worse towards the evening that her cousin's conversation could not but make it much worse. Excusing herself, she removed to her room where she hoped the application of cool cloths to her forehead would relieve her distress. After some time her discomfort lessened and Elizabeth, as if intending to exasperate herself as much as possible against Mr. Darcy, chose for her employment the examination of all the letters which Jane had written to her since her being in Kent. They contained no actual complaint, nor was there any revival of past occurrences, or any communication of present suffering. But in all, and in almost every line of each, there was a want of that cheerfulness which had been used to characterize her style, and which, proceeding from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself, and kindly disposed towards every one, had been scarcely ever clouded.

Elizabeth noticed every sentence conveying the idea of uneasiness with an attention which it had hardly received on the first perusal. Mr. Darcy's shameful boast of what misery he had been able to inflict gave her a keener sense of her sister's sufferings. It was some consolation to think that his visit to Rosings was to end in several days, and a still greater that in less than a fortnight she should herself be with Jane again, and enabled to contribute to the recovery of her spirits by all that affection could do.

She could not think of Darcy's leaving Kent without remembering that his cousin was to go with him; but Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear that he had no intentions at all and, agreeable as he was, she did not mean to be unhappy about him.

Finding her headache to be so diminished as to allow her to rejoin company; she was preparing to do so when she heard a soft knock on her door and, expecting it to be Charlotte, called for her to enter. Indeed it was Charlotte come to check on her friend and, concerned as to the cause of her headache, asked, "Did Colonel Fitzwilliam distress you, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth was loath to reveal the particulars of Colonel Fitzwilliam's revelation but, since Charlotte was already well informed as to Jane's situation, the information could not be altogether surprising. Hence she replied, "The Colonel simply revealed that Mr. Darcy had spoken of his recent efforts to separate his friend, Mr. Bingley, from a young lady against whom there was strong objections."

Charlotte quickly surmised that the young lady was Jane and wondered how to respond. Truthfully, she was surprised that such news would distress Elizabeth and said as much, "I am surprised, Lizzy, that this distresses you. Surely you knew that Mr. Darcy must have been involved and possibly played a major role since Mr. Bingley relies so heavily on his advice."

"I suspected that, of course, but did not accord the majority of the blame on him. The Colonel's comment suggests that Mr. Darcy accepted most, if not all, the credit for severing the attachment. That I find intolerable!"

"I see." Charlotte regarded her friend closely, "Elizabeth, from your comments in the past, you have never thought well of Mr. Darcy. It seems to me that your dislike of him is colouring your perception of his actions. If I may be forthright, it seems to me that you never speak of him but to criticize or censure."

"As he does when he glares at me!"

"I have never heard Mr. Darcy censure or disparage you. Rather the reverse actually - although you will not credit it."

"Charlotte, I have heard you say so before but I cannot give credit to your opinion on this."

"Yet two men whom we know to be honourable and fair – Mr. Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam – consider him an honourable and kind man. You know yourself that you can tell much about a man by the company he keeps. Do not those two gentlemen stand as a testament for Mr. Darcy's probity?"

As Elizabeth was about to respond, Charlotte looked at her watch and hurried to rise and leave the room saying, "I did not realize the time. I must arrange for supper." She stopped in the doorway, "Perhaps we can talk later tonight?"

Elizabeth was not eager to continue this discussion but could not think of any way to discourage her friend's desire to be of assistance and hence simply nodded her head, hoping that the matter would be forgotten. However, she was not to be so fortunate and later that evening, as she was preparing for bed, her friend once more knocked on her door. Elizabeth's soft 'come in' saw Charlotte step into the room and quietly close the door behind her. Elizabeth fluffed two pillows against the headboard and made herself comfortable for what she suspected might be a prolonged talk. Charlotte drew a chair close to the bed so that their conversation could be carried on as quietly as possible. Elizabeth was not inclined to be the first to speak and waited for her friend to do so.

Charlotte was quiet for several minutes, clearly contemplating those matters she wished to discuss, and then said, "I have been considering Mr. Darcy's behaviour and, while I at one time thought him attracted to you, I can no longer discern such. He puzzles me greatly and yet I cannot think ill of him. If he does not admire you, Lizzy, I am sure he does not dislike you. He has not displayed anything but the utmost civility to me and to you while you have been here."

"I cannot like the man, Charlotte. I simply cannot! Even if he were not a means of separating Jane from Mr. Bingley, his character has been most admirably sketched by Mr. Wickham."

"Ah, Mr. Wickham! I wondered when you would introduce his name." She grinned at Elizabeth, "A great favourite of yours, is he not? Although he appears to have shifted his attentions to another, I gather."

Elizabeth grimaced, "Miss Mary King has a fortune of ten thousand pounds. A gentleman of limited means must be prudent in his attachments."

"When does prudence become mercenary, Lizzy? If he shows no true affection for the lady, I have to think his motives mercenary."

"I like him too well to think him mercenary, although I admit others might attribute such motives to him." Elizabeth could not forget her aunt's rather similar reservations on this subject.

"I know little of Mr. Wickham. He has been remarkably quiet about his background apart from his dealings with Mr. Darcy. I do wonder about one thing however."

Elizabeth waited for a few seconds for Charlotte to continue before prompting, "One thing?"

"Hmm? Oh yes. Well, we know Mr. Wickham is about six or seven and twenty and that he was educated at Cambridge along with Mr. Darcy who finished about five or six years ago. I would think Mr. Wickham did as well. We know what Mr. Darcy has been doing for five years – running a large estate and raising a younger sister. What has Mr. Wickham done in that time? He has a gentleman's education and yet is only recently joining the militia. It seems like he should be more settled by now. What professions did he follow? Since he has not a gentleman's income, he must work surely."

"He would be settled if he had received the living he was due!" Elizabeth's response was vehement and angry.

"Perhaps, but with the education he received surely he would have and should have found alternate employment. If he had an inclination for the church, surely he could have found another living. What was he doing all those years? It is strange indeed, and I wonder that he has not spoken of it."

Elizabeth was silent. She could not dismiss Charlotte's musings outright and indeed, the more she considered the matter, the less satisfied she became with it. She knew a gentleman must have some means of support. What was Mr. Wickham doing for those years? It was puzzling indeed.

Charlotte could see that her words had caused Elizabeth to consider Mr. Wickham more carefully and decided that she had pressed the matter as fully as she dared at this point. Rising, she made a quiet departure with a simple 'good-night' leaving Elizabeth in contemplation on the bed. There she remained for several hours with her thoughts attempting to solve the puzzles provided by men from Derbyshire. Finally, her desire for sleep led to the extinguishing of the only candle still burning; however, it was some time before her desire became a reality and her sleep remained restless throughout the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Colonel Fitzwilliam Explains**

Rising at her usual time, Elizabeth broke her fast with the others. Charlotte had to walk to Hunsford to make a few calls and welcomed Elizabeth's company. Returning around noon, they enjoyed a light lunch and then Elizabeth's desire for exercise led her to suggest a walk; however Charlotte could not spare the time and Maria disclaimed any interest, and so Elizabeth ventured out alone. She was proceeding directly to her favourite route, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy's sometimes coming there stopped her, and instead of entering the park, she turned up the lane which led her farther from the turnpike road. The park paling was still the boundary on one side, and she soon passed one of the gates into the ground.

After walking two or three times along that part of the lane, she was tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at the gates and look into the park. The five weeks which she had now passed in Kent had made a great difference in the country, and every day was adding to the early verdure of the trees. She was on the point of continuing her walk, when she caught a glimpse of a gentleman within the sort of grove which edged the park; he was moving that way; and fearful of its being Mr. Darcy, she was directly retreating. But the person who advanced was now near enough to see her, and stepping forward with eagerness, pronounced her name. She had turned away, but on hearing herself called, though in a voice which proved it to be Colonel Fitzwilliam, she moved again towards the gate.

"I have been making the tour of the Park," he said, "as I generally do every year, and intend to close it with a call at the Parsonage. Are you going much farther?"

"I thought to stroll in the park for some little way."

"I would join you, if I may."

"I would certainly not object to your company, sir."

They walked with little conversation until the Colonel, glancing at her countenance, asked, "I could wish that your headache no longer bothers you, although it appears that it may do so still."

Elizabeth looked at him in some confusion, "My headache is quite gone, I assure you."

"Ah. I am glad. I thought perhaps it had deprived you of sleep."

"I admit to sleeping poorly, Colonel but you are being most ungallant indeed to remark on the effects on my countenance," she teased.

The Colonel was not to be diverted. He had a suspicion that his words of the previous day had contributed to Miss Bennet's discomfort and sought to make amends. He had recollected afterwards that Darcy had met Miss Bennet when he was visiting Bingley and wondered if Miss Bennet was the lady in question. He could not ask directly but thought he might probe further, albeit with as much delicacy as possible.

"My cousin is not one to disclose much of his activities even to his closest acquaintances. I recollect he met you in Hertfordshire. Were you much in his company there?"

"Not a great deal - although, I stayed at Netherfield Hall, where he was visiting, for several days while nursing my sister. We met on a few other occasions as well."

"He is not an easy gentleman to get to know. He has difficulty recommending himself to strangers."

"That I can well believe, Colonel. I hear such varying reports of him as to confuse me greatly. And, as you have stated, he does not converse readily with others."

"Yes, he has certainly behaved similarly here," he laughed. They walked in silence for several minutes until Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at Elizabeth and asked, "Something you have said puzzles me greatly. You spoke of varying reports of my cousin. I would guess that Bingley would speak favourably of him since he and Darcy are great friends. I was not aware that he was known to others while in Hertfordshire. May I inquire as to the source of the other reports?"

Elizabeth was reluctant to reveal that Mr. Wickham had confided in her but then remembered that the gentleman had spoken to others of his grievances against Mr. Darcy and that the tale of his misfortune was widely known around Meryton. Finally she replied, "A gentleman intimate with the Darcy family joined the _ Militia and spoke of his dealings with them."

Colonel Fitzwilliam made little effort to conceal his surprise and responded, "I find it hard to believe that any gentleman with a close acquaintance with the Darcy family could speak ill of them. May I enquire into the gentleman's name?"

Elizabeth could not explain her hesitancy and trepidation in revealing Mr. Wickham's identity. It was not that she doubted Mr. Wickham's account. Its verity was revealed in his countenance and assurance when he spoke of his dealings with Mr. Darcy. Nonetheless, she hesitated before saying, "Mr. Wickham."

"George Wickham!"

Elizabeth suddenly found herself walking unaccompanied and looked around for Colonel Fitzwilliam only to find that he had stopped several paces back. The glare directed at her startled her and when the Colonel, in two quick steps, towered over her almost threatening in his intensity, she drew back involuntarily.

Colonel Fitzwilliam, aware that he had seriously disconcerted her, took a deep breath and, stepping back, assumed a less threatening mien. "I apologize, Miss Bennet, for disturbing you so. I can only plead my surprise at your mentioning Mr. Wickham. But I must know! What has that scoundrel done now?"

Elizabeth could not help but feel angry that Mr. Darcy had prejudiced all his relatives and friends against Mr. Wickham. With cold civility, she responded, "Scoundrel? I would not call him such." Seeing a look of incredulity on the Colonel's face, she snapped, "It is the character of Mr. Darcy that was unfolded in the recital which I received many months ago from Mr. Wickham." The Colonel's mien encouraged her to continue, "Mr. Darcy reduced him to his present state of poverty, comparative poverty, by withholding the advantages, which he knew to have been designed for him. Mr. Wickham has been deprived, during the best years of his life, of that independence which was no less his due than his desert. Mr. Darcy did all this! And yet when I spoke to him of it, his contempt and disparagement was plain in his voice and countenance."

Colonel Fitzwilliam's countenance changed from incredulity to contempt to anger as he listened to her defence of Mr. Wickham. "And this," he cried, "is your opinion of my cousin! This is the estimation in which you hold him! I thank you for explaining it so fully. His faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed - if the calculation were true!"

Elizabeth coloured as she heard the contempt in Colonel Fitzwilliam's voice and manner. She thought well enough of him as to be aware that he would not have reacted in such a manner without cause. Her response was firm but contained less anger than before, "You deny that it is true?"

"I do indeed, Madam! And in every particular!"

Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement, and with little further ado, began, "I know not all that George Wickham has said to you and I can only refute it by laying before you the whole of his connection with the Darcys. Of the truth of what I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity and documents which attest to the truthfulness of my words." He paused as though wishing her to acknowledge this fact, which she reluctantly did by nodding, and then he continued, "Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years the management of all the Pemberley estates; and whose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally inclined Darcy's father to be of service to him; and on George Wickham, who was his god-son, his kindness was therefore liberally bestowed. Darcy's father supported him at school, and afterwards at Cambridge; most important assistance, as his own father, always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to give him a gentleman's education. Darcy's father was not only fond of George's society, since his manners were always engaging, but had also the highest opinion of him and, hoping the church would be his profession, intended to provide for him in it."

Elizabeth could not but help cry out, "This I had from Mr. Wickham himself. He did not try to hide his connection with the Darcy family."

"All good lies contain some truth, Miss Bennet, else they would be easier to discern." Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head, only a little of the anger having leached from his voice, "As for Darcy and myself, it is many, many years since we first began to think of him in a very different manner. The vicious propensities - the want of principle, which he was careful to guard from the knowledge of Mr. Darcy, could not escape the observation of young men of nearly the same age as himself, and who had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy could not have. Here again I shall give you pain - to what degree you only can tell. But whatever may be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham has created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding his real character. It but adds even another motive. Mr. Darcy died…"

Elizabeth felt compelled to interrupt, "I have no particular affection for Mr. Wickham beyond friendship!"

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked relieved as he resumed his explanation, "For that I am thankful indeed. But as I was about to say, Mr Darcy died about five years ago; and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the last so steady, that in his will he particularly recommended to promote his advancement in the best manner that his profession might allow, and, if he took orders, desired that a valuable family living might be his as soon as it became vacant. There was also a legacy of one thousand pounds. As one of the executors of the will, I am quite familiar with these details. Mr. Wickham's own father did not long survive Mr. Darcy, and within half a year from these events, Mr. Wickham wrote to inform Darcy that, having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped Darcy should not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment by which he could not be benefited."

Elizabeth sensed rather than heard a soft snort from the Colonel as he said, "He had some intention, he added, of studying the law, and that Darcy must be aware that the interest of one thousand pounds would be a very insufficient support to do so. Darcy and I rather wished than believed him to be sincere; but, at any rate, Darcy was perfectly ready to accede to his proposal. He knew very well - as did I - that Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman. The business was therefore soon settled. Wickham resigned all claim to assistance in the church and accepted in return three thousand pounds. All connection between Darcy and Wickham was now dissolved."

Elizabeth could not help but exclaim, "Four thousand pounds! So much!"

"Indeed! A sum which a prudent man could use to support himself for ten years or more. I gather Mr. Wickham omitted that little portion of the story." The Colonel snorted more loudly this time, "Four thousand pounds was certainly enough to allow Wickham to study law should he have chosen to do so. Anyway, Darcy thought too ill of him to invite him to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town, I believe, Mr. Wickham chiefly lived, but his studying the law was a mere pretence, and being now free from all restraint, his life was a life of idleness and dissipation. For about three years we heard little of him; but, on the decease of the incumbent of the living which had been designed for him, he applied to Darcy again by letter for the presentation. His circumstances, he assured us, and Darcy and I had no difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad. He had found the law a most unprofitable study, and was now absolutely resolved on being ordained, if Darcy would present him to the living in question - of which he trusted there could be little doubt, as he was well assured that there was no other person to provide for, and that Darcy could not have forgotten his revered father's intentions. You will hardly blame Darcy for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or for resisting every repetition of it. Wickham's resentment was in proportion to the distress of his circumstances - and he was doubtless as violent in his abuse of Darcy to others, as in his reproaches to Darcy himself. Your previous reaction attests to this, I believe."

Colonel Fitzwilliam's face had gradually lost much of its anger and had settled into a cold, hard cast which Elizabeth found more frightening than his anger. She knew the gentleman was an experienced soldier but for the first time she thought she saw that part of him which he hid from gentle society. She could not doubt his words.

"Enough! Colonel Fitzwilliam enough! I believe you!"

Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head in denial, "No Miss Bennet, there is more you must hear. What I have said so far is in defence of my cousin's honour and reputation. What I must impart now is for your benefit alone lest George Wickham impose himself on you." His pause was obviously to organize his thoughts but his voice took on a more savage note as he spoke and Elizabeth could not help but believe that the subject touched him very closely.

"After this period, every appearance of acquaintance was dropped. How George Wickham lived I know not. But last summer he was again most painfully obtruded on my notice. I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold. A young woman of my family was, about a year ago, taken from school, and an establishment formed for her in London; and last summer she went with the lady who presided over it, to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a prior acquaintance between him and a certain Mrs. Younge, in whose character the young woman's…family were most unhappily deceived; and by her connivance and aid he so far recommended himself to…the young lady, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. She was then but fifteen, which must be her excuse; but, after stating her imprudence, I am happy to add that we owe the knowledge of it to herself. Her brother joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended elopement; and then she acknowledged the whole to him. You may imagine what he felt and how he acted. Regard for her credit and feelings prevented any public exposure, but Wickham left the place immediately and Mrs. Younge was, of course, removed from her charge. Wickham's chief object was unquestionably the young woman's large fortune; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging himself on my family and Darcy for our role in depriving him of the living was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been complete indeed."

He paused once more for a few seconds before continuing, "Lest you think that George Wickham's vicious behaviour towards young women is limited to those with a substantial dowry, you should know that he has most successfully importuned several young women in Lambton and Pemberley, some of whom were left with child. None had any dowry other than their attractiveness. No young lady is safe with George Wickham, Miss Bennet. None!"

"This, Miss Bennet, is a faithful narrative of every event in which Darcy and Wickham have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit Darcy henceforth of cruelty towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner, under what form of falsehood, he has imposed on you; but his success is not, perhaps, to be wondered at. Ignorant as you previously were of everything concerning either gentleman, detection could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly not in your inclination."

Colonel Fitzwilliam had, during his recitation and without any conscious thought, been directing his footsteps towards a bench situated under a large elm tree. He finally looked at Elizabeth once more and was immediately concerned; her cheeks glistened with tears and her face was had lost all trace of colour. His concern overrode all proprieties and he quickly assisted her last few steps, sat her upon the bench and pressed a handkerchief into her hands.

He was surprised when she spoke, since he thought her too distracted for coherent speech but her words were clear and her voice surprisingly strong, "I am well Colonel. I need only time to think of what you have revealed to me." Wiping her eyes, she gave him a watery, weak smile and said, "I thank you for revealing the despicable behaviour of Mr. Wickham. I know it cannot have been easy. It certainly was hard for me to hear. I do not mean to be ungracious but I must ask of you to allow me solitude to consider all that you have revealed. The truth of what you have told me, I cannot doubt but I am having great difficulty in reconciling your words with those imparted to me by Mr. Wickham and understanding how I could have been so badly misled."

"I would not wish to leave you while you are in such distress, Miss Bennet."

"Say nothing of that. Who should suffer but myself? It has been my own doing, and I ought to feel it." She replied, 'Do not worry Colonel. I will be well."

With considerable reluctance, Colonel Fitzwilliam resumed his tour of the park and was soon lost from her sight.

When she considered, with somewhat clearer attention, the relation of events, which, if true, must overthrow every cherished opinion of Mr. Wickham's worth, and which bore so alarming an affinity to his own history of himself, her feelings were yet more acutely painful and more difficult of definition. Astonishment, apprehension, and even horror, oppressed her. She wished to discredit Colonel Fitzwilliam's story entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, "This must be false! It cannot be! It must be the grossest falsehood!"

In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that could rest on nothing, she rose and walked on; but it would not do; in half a minute, collecting herself as well as she could, she again began the mortifying consideration of all that related to Wickham, and commanded herself so far as to examine the meaning of all that Colonel Fitzwilliam had revealed.

The account of his connection with the Pemberley family was exactly what Mr. Wickham had related himself; and the kindness of the late Mr. Darcy - though she had not before known its extent - agreed equally well with his own words. So far each recital confirmed the other; but when she came to the will, the difference was great. What Wickham had said of the living was fresh in her memory, and as she recalled his very words, it was impossible not to feel that there was gross duplicity on one side or the other; and, for a few moments, she flattered herself that her wishes did not err. But when she remembered the particulars immediately following of Wickham's resigning all pretensions to the living, of his receiving, in lieu, so considerable a sum as three thousand pounds, again was she forced to hesitate. She weighed every circumstance with what she meant to be impartiality - deliberated on the probability of each statement - but with little success. On both sides it was only assertion but Colonel Fitzwilliam's testimony proved that the affair, which she had believed impossible that any contrivance could so represent as to render Mr. Darcy's conduct in it less than infamous, was capable of a turn which must make him entirely blameless throughout the whole.

The extravagance and general profligacy laid to Mr. Wickham's charge, exceedingly shocked her; the more so, as she could bring no proof of its injustice. She had never heard of him before his entrance into the —shire Militia, in which he had engaged at the persuasion of the young man, who, on meeting him accidentally in town, had there renewed a slight acquaintance. Of his former way of life, nothing had been known in Hertfordshire but what he told himself. As to his real character, had information been in her power, she had never felt a wish of enquiring. His countenance, voice, and manner had established him at once in the possession of every virtue. She tried to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished trait of integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the attacks of Colonel Fitzwilliam; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone for those casual errors, under which she would endeavour to class what he had described as the idleness and vice of many years continuance. But no such recollection befriended her. She could see Mr. Wickham instantly before her, in every charm of air and address; but she could remember no more substantial good than the general approbation of the neighbourhood, and the regard which his social powers had gained him in the mess. After pausing on this point for a considerable while, she once more continued her walk. But, alas! The story of his designs on Colonel Fitzwilliam's acquaintance, which she thought might actually be Miss Darcy, given what had passed between Colonel Fitzwilliam and herself only the morning before, could not be gainsaid. At last she was forced to accept the truth of every particular related by Colonel Fitzwilliam who, as she had previously learned, was closely concerned in all his cousin's affairs, and whose character she had no reason to question and who had offered proof of his assertions.

She perfectly remembered everything that had passed in conversation between Wickham and herself in their first evening at Mr. Philips's. Many of his expressions were still fresh in her memory. She was now struck with the impropriety of such communications to a stranger, and wondered that it had escaped her before. She saw the indelicacy of putting himself forward as he had done, and the inconsistency of his professions with his conduct. She remembered that he had boasted of having no fear of seeing Mr. Darcy - that Mr. Darcy might leave the country, but that he should stand his ground; yet he had avoided the Netherfield ball the very next week. She remembered also, that till the Netherfield family had quitted the country, he had told his story to no one but herself; but that, after their removal, it had been everywhere discussed; that he had then no reserves, no scruples in sinking Mr. Darcy's character, though he had assured her that respect for the father would always prevent his exposing the son.

How differently did everything now appear in which he was concerned! His attentions to Miss King were now the consequence of views solely and hatefully mercenary; and the mediocrity of her fortune proved no longer the moderation of his wishes, but his eagerness to grasp at anything. His behaviour to herself could now have had no tolerable motive; he had either been deceived with regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying his vanity by encouraging the preference which she believed she had most incautiously shown. Every lingering struggle in his favour grew fainter and fainter; and in farther justification of Mr. Darcy, she could not but allow that Mr. Bingley, when questioned by Jane, had long ago asserted his blamelessness in the affair; that, proud and repulsive as were his manners, she had never, in the whole course of their acquaintance - an acquaintance which had latterly brought them much together, and given her a sort of intimacy with his ways - seen anything that betrayed him to be unprincipled or unjust - anything that spoke him of irreligious or immoral habits. That among his own connections he was esteemed and valued - that even Wickham had allowed him merit as a brother, and that she had often heard him speak so affectionately of his sister as to prove him capable of some amiable feeling. That had his actions been what Wickham represented them, so gross a violation of everything right could hardly have been concealed from the world; and that friendship between a person capable of it, and such an amiable man as Mr. Bingley, was incomprehensible. She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think, without feeling that she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, and absurd.

"How despicably have I acted!" she cried. "I, who have prided myself on my discernment! - I, who have valued myself on my abilities! Who have often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my vanity, in useless or blameable distrust - how humiliating is this discovery! - Yet, how just a humiliation! - Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my folly! Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either was concerned. Till this moment, I never knew myself."

By this time the day was well advanced and her presence – or rather the lack of it – would surely be missed at the Parsonage to which she now directed her steps. Upon entering she was given to understand that Lady Catherine had invited them to tea. Her feelings were distressed and she knew her composure was hardly certain to be maintained should her hostess question her to the same extent as she had done previously. Nevertheless she could think of no reason to make her excuses and it was not in her nature to pretend ill-health. "Besides," she told herself, "I have claimed that my courage rises with any attempt to intimidate me. I cannot foreswear myself now." So, under the not so gentle urging of Mr. Collins, who could not bear to discomfit her ladyship by appearing less than five minutes early, she removed to her room to make her hasty preparations. The face she saw in the mirror showed no signs of the tumultuous walk that she had experienced. How she could face either the Colonel or Mr. Darcy she knew not, but face them she must.


	4. Chapter 4

**A Meeting is Arranged**

As she followed behind her cousin and Charlotte as they walked to Rosings, she concentrated her thoughts on how best to deal with those two gentlemen. How much of what had transpired with Colonel Fitzwilliam would be vouchsafed to Mr. Darcy? She suspected that the latter gentleman would be in full knowledge of her dealings with Mr. Wickham and that the Colonel had revealed to her Mr. Darcy's dealings with him. How would Mr. Darcy respond to her having such knowledge of his private affairs? If his response at the Netherfield Ball was an indication, he would be most seriously displeased. If he was not prepared to respond to her then, how much less pleased would he be to now have the full particulars revealed to her. At least, in that regard, he would hopefully direct his anger at the Colonel and not herself. Should she acknowledge her error to him? As she thought further, she could find no reason to do so unless he initiated the subject. After all, her charges against him had been made at the ball and he had declined then to respond. That subject must now be dead between them and she would not try to breathe life into it; however, if he chose to do so, she could not, as painful and humiliating as it might be, do other than apologize and seek his forgiveness. That he would grant her absolution, she could not say.

Of more moment however, was the issue of her sister and Mr. Bingley. Could she ignore his involvement in their separation? She felt strongly disinclined to do so and yet, courtesy as Lady Catherine's guest, required her to act with the utmost civility. She could feel her ire rising as she considered the anguish her sister was suffering and, if Mr. Bingley was equally affected, then Mr. Darcy's interference was most grievous indeed. Breathing deeply she allowed her anger to dissipate as she entered the parlour to face Lady Catherine and her visitors. It would, she thought, be a most uncomfortable and trying visit.

The gentlemen rose as Mr. Collins led them into the parlour and their bows were as precise as ever; however, she could not fail to notice that the gaze of both was fixed on her countenance and she thought she detected a slight expression of concern from them both. Her curtsey was equally precise and she felt herself unable to greet either with anything more than the coolest civility; that her manner to Mr. Darcy was unchanged she recognized, but she had generally greeted the Colonel with warmer civility. She could discern nothing from their countenances nor was she inclined to hazard a guess as to their thoughts.

She chose to sit as far from either as possible, hoping that they would respect her desire to avoid their company. Alas, it was not to be, and Colonel Fitzwilliam was soon sitting in the chair beside her and fixing his attentions on her, "I trust, Miss Bennet, that you are feeling better?"

The Colonel had pitched his voice as not to be heard by others and indeed, Lady Catherine had once more claimed Mr. Darcy's attention, although Elizabeth could see him glancing at her occasionally. Turning his attention to the Colonel, she replied, "I am well, sir. Quite well. I also must thank you for imparting the particulars of Mr. Wickham's character to me." As she spoke, she considered that gentleman's character and an errant thought struck her with some force; it was not one she could ignore. "Colonel, I would ask…I wonder…is it likely that Mr. Wickham will impose himself on the people of Meryton?"

The Colonel's response was immediate, "I am positive he would. He left many debts behind when he departed from Cambridge and again from Lambton – a village close to my cousin's estate. I dare say he will do so in Meryton."

Elizabeth felt an immediate concern, "Sir, the shopkeepers of Meryton are not wealthy. They can little afford to have monies owed them and they have daughters also. Can we warn them? Should I warn them?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam surprise at her questions was quickly overtaken by an understanding of her concerns. His response was not long in coming, "Most assuredly they must be warned. Perhaps your father?"

Elizabeth required little time before responding, "My father will wish to learn - no, he will insist on learning – how I came to such knowledge. May I give him your name as an assurance?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam considered all that he had revealed to Elizabeth and nodded in reply, "Indeed you may. I do believe Mr. Wickham has made a grievous error. He joined the Militia. It will not be as easy to escape his debts now. Perhaps I could write to or visit the Colonel of Mr. Wickham's regiment as well. Do you know his name?"

"It is Colonel Forster of the _shire Militia and I thank you, Colonel. You have behaved in a most gentlemanly manner."

The Colonel nodded once more and considered his next words. He had not been able to discover Miss Bennet's involvement with Bingley – having been distracted by the discussion of Wickham – now perhaps he could explore that problem and began by saying, "Earlier today I made mention of Mr. Bingley. Are you well acquainted with that gentleman?"

"Indeed I am sir; Mr. Bingley is leasing an estate not three miles from Longbourn where I live."

However, to the Colonel's dismay but Elizabeth's satisfaction – she was reluctant to talk of Mr. Bingley and her sister at this time – Lady Catherine finally noticed them in conversation and did not scruple to call out, "What is it that you are saying Fitzwilliam? What is it that you and Miss Bennet are talking of? Come, let me hear what it is."

"We are talking of music once again, madam," said he when forced to acknowledge the interruption. Shortly thereafter he begged Elizabeth to play for them, "I beseech you to humour me on this. I have much enjoyment in your playing."

Although Elizabeth had little desire to do so, the consideration that she might be required to discuss Mr. Bingley and her sister induced her to agree to the request. No sooner had she seated herself at the pianoforte and begun to search the music available, then Mr. Darcy approached and offered to turn the sheets for her. There being no way that she could see to deny the request, she acquiesced and began to play. The presence of Mr. Darcy did not soothe her nerves and she found it hard to concentrate on the music before her. "There were some very strong objections against the lady," she remembered and her fingers struck a very discordant note. Aware that Mr. Darcy had noticed her discomfit, she remonstrated with herself to focus on the music. Finishing the piece with a barely audible sigh of relief and her composure somewhat threadbare, she began a search for another with which to pass the time.

Mr. Darcy aided her in the search, suggesting several that he thought she might know but with no success. As she continued her search, he murmured, "Miss Bennet, I would speak with you on a matter of some importance. Would you meet me on your usual walk in the morning, so that we might converse?"

Elizabeth could not credit that he would have anything to say that she could wish to hear. "There were some very strong objections against the lady," and accordingly responded, "I do not believe, sir, that there are any two people who have less to say to each other."

"I disagree, Miss Bennet! I disagree most vehemently."

Before Elizabeth could respond, Lady Catherine once more interjected a question as to their conversation and after Elizabeth satisfied her that they were but discussing which music she would play, was content to return her attention to the instructions she was imparting to Mrs. Collins about the household budget at the Parsonage. Colonel Fitzwilliam had taken the opportunity to escape his aunt's attention and joined them at the pianoforte thus depriving Elizabeth the opportunity to respond to Mr. Darcy's request.

Her first inclination had been to reject it outright. After all, what could he say to refute his involvement but, as her fingers danced over the instrument keys, she remembered that she had – not a day earlier – thought it impossible that Mr. Darcy could be found blameless in the business with Mr. Wickham. How wrong she had been there. Could she be wrong again? She did not think so since this time the words were those of Mr. Darcy himself. "There were some very strong objections against the lady," Nevertheless, since she had been so grievously wrong on the matter of Mr. Wickham, did it not behoove her to afford Mr. Darcy the opportunity to explain his actions there? She could not see how it was possible for him to do so, but surely he was owed the opportunity. Her sense of justice would not allow her to do less. How then, was she to apprise him of her decision? Both gentlemen were according her their attention at the pianoforte but that would soon cease as the Parsonage party would shortly depart.

As it turned out, no opportunity was afforded her to communicate her intentions to Mr. Darcy until it was time to depart and, as Mr. Darcy assisted her to enter Lady Catherine's carriage, she murmured very softly, "I will be walking in the morning." That he grasped her meaning was apparent from the slight nod of his head. She was uncertain as to what he expected to accomplish or what he might say and she only hoped that her temper would not betray her as it had done on occasion in her past dealings with the gentleman.

After supper Elizabeth excused herself to her room claiming fatigue from the day's exertions and the residue of the previous day's headache. Once there she first resolved to read Jane's letters once more but, after thinking on the matter further, she considered that nothing would be gained by doing so. Of the despondency felt by her sister she was fully aware. Nothing would be gained by the exercise other than to rekindle her ire against Mr. Darcy and that, she realized, would have little value other than to render it more difficult for her to listen to him on the morrow. And listen to him she would. She owed him that after her egregious error in regard of Mr. Wickham. How badly had she sketched his character in this regard! As she was considering the morrow's meeting, she heard a soft knock on her door and Charlotte entered after Elizabeth's answer.

"I would ask if you are well, Eliza? You seemed to have been distracted and even a little despondent today."

"I am well, Charlotte. I have received today a sad, but much deserved, blow to my pride."

Charlotte considered her friend carefully. She knew her well enough to know that should Elizabeth not wish to discuss a subject, she would refuse to do so albeit her refusal would be expressed most pleasantly. She could not discern whether Elizabeth was so inclined on this occasion and asked lightly, "Ah, a most rare event then. Perhaps you can share it with those of us who suffer such with some regularity."

Elizabeth gave a rueful chuckle, "I fear my judgement of Mr. Wickham has been sadly and completely overturned by Colonel Fitzwilliam today."

At Charlotte's questioning look, she briefly outlined the particulars of the situation involving Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy. "As you may see, there is but such a quantity of merit between them – just enough to make one sort of a good man – and of late it has been shifting about pretty much. For myself, I am now inclined to believe it all Mr. Darcy's." She grinned at Charlotte, "But you may choose as you wish."

Charlotte could not have been more surprised. "I do not know when I have been more shocked." said she, "but is it certain?"

"Oh yes, I fear it is. Colonel Fitzwilliam was quite prepared to provide witnesses and documents to support his claims."

"This does appear to place Mr. Darcy in a more favourable light, does it not Lizzy?"

"Perhaps a little, Charlotte, although it does not materially affect my opinion of the gentleman. That he is an honourable man, I will concede but his pride and disagreeable nature, his disdain and contempt for me, my family and my neighbours do not recommend him to me. That he is not as bad as I thought I will admit, but no more."

"Lizzy, I will not try to change your opinion. I think you are wrong but I have learned from experience that you are stubborn in defending your opinions and reluctant to reconsider those opinions even when there is reason to believe you are wrong. I will limit myself to several observations and ask that you not dismiss them as is your usual wont. Will you grant me this – to seriously consider what I say and that I might be right? Will you?"

Elizabeth looked at her friend with some surprise. She had rarely seen Charlotte so determined and reluctantly assented to her request, "Very well. I will attempt to consider your words carefully."

Charlotte sighed with some relief. She had enough trust in her friend's integrity to believe that Elizabeth would indeed give careful thought to what she was about to be told. "First of all, I know I have said this before but I am not convinced that Mr. Darcy views you with disdain or contempt. Apart from his very first comment it seems to me that he has found your company to be of interest. No! Hear me out!" Charlotte spoke sharply as she could see Elizabeth about to interject a comment.

"Please, let me finish. As I said I thought I could see some signs of interest. He did ask you to dance at the gathering at our home and you were the only lady, apart from those in his own party, with whom he danced during his stay at Netherfield. The only one, Lizzy!" she paused for a moment before saying, "I know his behaviour here has been odd but it certainly is not consistent with a man who disdains you. In fact, if incivility is a sign of a man in love, he may be besotted!"

Charlotte laughed at the expression on her friend's face, "Although I am not claiming such in this case. I would also ask that you answer the following; first, how old is Mr. Darcy?"

"Seven or eight and twenty, I believe."

"How long has he been master of his estate?"

"Five years I think – since his father died. To what do these questions tend?"

"Patience, Lizzy. He has the guardianship of a younger sister I believe, does he not?"

"Yes"

"How old is she now?"

"I believe Miss Bingley said she was about fifteen or sixteen – Lydia's age, in fact."

Charlotte nodded, "So we have a young man of two and twenty years, taking over the management of a large estate and the guardianship of a much younger sister. A serious responsibility was it not? Most young men of his age are playing the fool in town."

Elizabeth could only nod and Charlotte took some satisfaction from the pensive look on her friends face. "Excellent, perhaps she is beginning to think clearly for once."

"Finally, I will repeat something I mentioned before. If two such amiable men as Mr. Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam like and esteem Mr. Darcy, is it not possible that your perception of that man may be in error?" Charlotte rose from her seat, "Now, I will plague you no more. I believe you have much to think on and will leave you to that effort."

Alone again with her thoughts Elizabeth knew not what to think. She was not insensible to all that Charlotte had imparted. She recognized that her dislike of Mr. Darcy was founded to a certain extent on a mistaken belief in the goodness of Mr. Wickham and, with a humiliating awareness, she saw that it had been that dislike which allowed her to give credit to Mr. Wickham's tale. It was the cause of her dislike which troubled her. That the man held in her low esteem he had shown by his very first words – she was not handsome enough to tempt him – and the glares he directed her way certainly confirmed his dislike and disdain. No, she thought, she found it difficult to credit Charlotte's words that he was attracted to her. However, she was prepared to concede that he was frequently civil to her particularly when she resided at Netherfield nursing Jane. That he had danced with her, and her only, she could not understand particularly since he had paid her no other attention that evening and had separated from her after the dance in some anger. That, she admitted to herself, was caused mainly by her harsh words with him during the dance. Nevertheless, he had wasted little time in departing Netherfield after the dance - never to return. And his behaviour here in Hunsford was puzzling in the extreme. She could not understand his calling at the Parsonage or his meetings with her on her walks and his discomfort and reluctance to converse. Was she to interpret this as an interest? When she thought about the time they spent a full thirty minutes in company together in the Netherfield library with nary a word exchanged, that seemed more the action of a gentleman with no interest; and of ensuring that a lady perceived his lack of interest.

When she remembered his behaviour at the Assembly and again at the ball, she could detect nothing other than a disdain and contempt for those with whom he was forced to associate. He had made no effort to engage them in conversation and, when such was forced upon him, his words were barely civil and frequently designed to indicate his contempt for the company – 'every savage could dance' he had said - which told much about his view of her friends and neighbours. No, she found little to admire or like in Mr. Darcy.

And yet, when she considered that both Mr. Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam, both truly amiable men, considered him to be an honourable man and a good friend, she was confused. That Mr. Bingley avowed him to be amiable among close friends and relations, she was prepared to concede, and he had been civil during her sojourn at Netherfield – certainly much more so than either of Mr. Bingley's sisters. But how, she thought, could one expand one's circle of acquaintances, if one disclaimed any interest in being introduced to and conversing with new acquaintances?

And what, she wondered, did this portend for the morrow? Mr. Darcy's interference in the matter of Mr. Bingley and her sister did not admit of any doubt. He averred his actions and appeared to feel them justified and reasonable. "There were some very strong objections against the lady," Those words could not be denied and she was certain that those objections encompassed an uncle who was a country solicitor and another in trade in London.

Her reflections gave her little respite until at last she resolved to think on them no more and await the morrow with more patience. She would allow Mr. Darcy his chance to explain his actions and, once he had done so, think of him no more. Their paths were not likely to cross in the future and she would attempt to ensure, should she visit Charlotte in the future, that Mr. Darcy was not expected to be of the company at Rosings. Nevertheless, sleep did not find her for some time and her thoughts could not be as ordered as her wishes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Painful Truths**

Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations which had at length closed her eyes. She could not yet recover from the surprise of what the previous day had revealed; it was impossible to think of anything else, and, totally indisposed for employment, she resolved soon after breakfast to indulge herself in air and exercise. That she had agreed to meet with Mr. Darcy she remembered only as she set out on the path and, if she had not committed to doing so, she knew she would have chosen a different path.

She had gone but a short distance when she saw a gentleman standing on the path just ahead of her. Recognizing Mr. Darcy, she was about to greet him when he turned and stepped rapidly towards her. She acknowledged his quick bow and greeting and continued her walk. As she expected, he fell into step with her and for several minutes they walked together in silence. She was determined to require him to open the conversation since they were meeting at his request. She was beginning to wonder if that gentleman had not lost the power of speech when he at last cleared his throat and began, "Miss Bennet, I had reason to speak…or rather my cousin had reason to speak to me yesterday. I understand you and he had a rather prolonged discussion and he imparted matters of a private nature pertaining to me."

His manner was as haughty as she had come to expect and his distaste for the subject matter evident. Whether that distaste encompassed her, she could not discern and her response was cool, "Indeed, sir, your understanding is complete."

"Miss Bennet, I believe my cousin revealed to you all of my dealings with Mr. Wickham. I can add nothing to that account except in one regard. I wish for this to be kept in the strictest confidence but I trust in your discretion. I would have you understand that the young woman my cousin spoke of was, in fact, my sister - Georgiana. This, more than any other circumstance, will I am sure explain to you my anger towards, and disgust with, George Wickham."

Elizabeth, seeing him regard her closely, simply nodded, not insensible to such an expression of confidence and trust in her.

"I know not if Mr. Wickham has gained your affections, but I would hope this information would be sufficient for you to protect yourself against him."

It seemed to Elizabeth that Mr. Darcy spoke with controlled anger which she could not understand, but her quiet, "I am in no danger from Mr. Wickham, Mr. Darcy." seemed to relieve him as his countenance showed less anger. She wondered at Miss Darcy's well-being and asked, "Your sister, Mr. Darcy. She is well I hope? She has recovered?"

"Yes, her spirits are improving although I fear it will take some time yet for her to feel comfortable again with people." They walked on in silence for a few more minutes before Mr. Darcy once more spoke.

"My cousin also revealed that he had spoken with you about my having recently separated my friend Mr. Bingley from a young woman and he suspected that you or someone known to you was the lady concerned. I was able to satisfy him that the young woman was your sister. I will not say that he was relieved. Indeed, appalled would be a more apt description of his feelings and he sends his apologies for having spoken of it to you and for having caused you such distress as he observed. That he was outraged I should have committed such an act, he also expressed most forcibly."

"You may tell Colonel Fitzwilliam that his apologies are accepted." Her tone was so cold as to leave Darcy in no doubt of her feelings on the subject.

He began, "Miss Bennet, I…" when he was interrupted by her exclaiming, "You, sir, have been the means of ruining, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister."

As she pronounced these words, Mr. Darcy changed colour; but the emotion was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she continued. "I have little reason in the world to think well of you and your actions in this matter do nothing to improve that opinion. No motive can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted there. You dare not, you cannot deny, your own words assure me that you have been the principal, if not the only means of dividing them from each other, of exposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, the other to its derision for disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind."

She paused and saw, with no slight indignation, that he was listening with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse. He even looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity.

"Can you deny that you have done it?" she repeated striving to remember her vow of maintaining her civility. With assumed tranquillity he then replied, "I have no wish of denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoiced in my success. Towards him I have been kinder than towards myself."

His last words puzzled her but she would not that let distract her, saying, "I resolved when I left this morning to allow you to explain your actions, little though I wish to hear any such explanation. I will honour my vow although I also admit my reluctance to credit any explanation you may provide. It is only my egregious error with respect to Mr. Wickham that has induced me to do so."

His look of haughty composure had not deserted him – although that small smile had disappeared - and his manner was, if anything, even colder than before when he began to speak, "I shall hope to be in future secured from your censure, when the following account of my actions and their motives has been heard. If, in the explanation of them, I am under the necessity of relating feelings which may be offensive to yours, I can only say that I am sorry. The necessity must be obeyed and an apology would be absurd."

He paused as though to collect his thoughts, "I had not been long in Hertfordshire, before I saw, in common with others, that Bingley preferred your eldest sister to any other young woman in the country. But it was not till the evening of the dance at Netherfield that I had any apprehension of his feeling a serious attachment since I had often seen him in love before. At that ball, while I had the honour of dancing with you, I was first made acquainted, by Sir William Lucas's accidental information, that Bingley's attentions to your sister had given rise to a general expectation of their marriage. He spoke of it as a certain event, of which the time alone could be undecided. From that moment I observed my friend's behaviour attentively; and I could then perceive that his partiality for your sister was beyond what I had ever witnessed in him. Your sister I also watched. Her look and manners were open, cheerful, and engaging as ever, but without any symptom of particular regard, and I remained convinced from the evening's scrutiny, that though she received his attentions with pleasure, she did not invite them by any participation of sentiment."

He paused once more to glance at Elizabeth, and her tightened lips suggested her disagreement with his observation, but he continued nevertheless, "If you are of a contrary opinion here, I must have been in an error. Your superior knowledge of your sister must make the latter probable. If it be so, if I have been misled by such error, to inflict pain on her, your resentment is not unreasonable. But I shall not scruple to assert that the serenity of your sister's countenance and air was such as might have given the most acute observer a conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart was not likely to be easily touched."

Elizabeth observed that his manner seemed less haughty as he continued, "That I was desirous of believing her indifferent is certain, but I will venture to say that my investigations and decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or fears. I did not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it; I believed it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason."

His belief of her sister's insensibility, she instantly resolved to be false, and his account of the real, the worst objections to the match, made her too angry to have any wish of doing him justice. He expressed no regret for what he had done which satisfied her; his style was not penitent, but haughty. It was all pride and insolence. "And this sir is your objection, your sole objection to the attachment. This is your impediment, sir?"

The subsequent pause in his narrative was somewhat lengthy as clearly he was reluctant to continue in the face of her obvious anger but, as one facing a most disagreeable task, he shook his head and spoke once more, "No, Miss Bennet, my objections to the marriage were not merely the want of connections and dowry. These could not be as great an evil to my friend. There were other causes of repugnance which must be stated, though briefly. The situation of your mother's family, though objectionable, was nothing in comparison to that total want of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly, betrayed by herself, by your three younger sisters, and occasionally even by your father."

She saw him glance at her once more and she thought his manner to be almost beseeching – all trace of haughtiness lost - as he said, "Pardon me. It pains me to offend you. But, amidst your concern for the defects of your nearest relations, and your displeasure at this representation of them, let it give you consolation to consider that to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share of the like censure is praise no less generally bestowed on you and your eldest sister, than it is honourable to the sense and disposition of you both. I will only further say that, from what passed that evening, my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and every inducement heightened, which could have led me before to preserve my friend from what I esteemed a most unhappy connection. He left Netherfield for London, on the day following, as you, I am certain, remember, with the design of soon returning.

He took a deep breath as if to fortify himself, "The part which I acted is now to be explained. His sisters' uneasiness had been equally excited with my own; our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered; and, alike sensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we shortly resolved on joining him directly in London. We accordingly went and there I readily engaged in the office of pointing out to my friend, the certain evils of such a choice. I described, and enforced them earnestly. But, however this remonstrance might have staggered or delayed his determination, I do not suppose that it would ultimately have prevented the marriage, had it not been seconded by the assurance, which I hesitated not in giving, of your sister's indifference. He had before believed her to return his affection with sincere, if not with equal, regard. But Bingley has great natural modesty, with a stronger dependence on my judgment than on his own. To convince him therefore, that he had deceived himself, was no very difficult point. To persuade him against returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been given, was scarcely the work of a moment. I cannot blame myself for having done thus much."

Elizabeth struggled to control her anger. That he believed Jane to be indifferent to Mr. Bingley she could not credit and his arrogance to presume to guide his friend in this matter and it was not until she remembered Charlotte's observation that Jane's reserve was such as to make it difficult for one not familiar with her to discern her true feelings. Nevertheless, was it his role to guide his friend so and was not his advice tinged by his disdain for Jane's connections and the improprieties of her family? She could not restrain herself from saying as much to him, "I wonder at your advice Mr. Darcy, if my sister's connections and family were not so disgusting to you. Would you have then been so ready to question her affections? I am sure Mr. Bingley's sisters would not have scrupled to have done so."

"I am not one to let my wishes determine my observations, madam. As I said, I believed that her affections were not engaged because I could see no sign that they were."

"And so you took it upon yourself to assure your friend that my sister's heart was not engaged! If you had limited yourself to admitting that you could not discern any particular affection, I might have little to object to; but to assert, to give your assurances, was an act of such arrogance as I can hardly credit. From your observation – from some distance you admit and based on one evening of observation - you were prepared to give assurances that you could read my sister's heart! I can barely comprehend such arrogance."

Darcy remained silent, Elizabeth hoped from consideration of her words. His mien was unreadable – he seemed unable or unwilling to answer her charge and so she continued, "And was it your affair to recommend that your friend should relinquish this attachment? Should not that be a matter, a decision that he resolves himself?"

This bestirred him to respond, "Let me ask you a pertinent question, Miss Bennet. If my friend were penniless and your sister in possession of a fine fortune, would you not wish to determine the extent of his affections and how would you do so? And if you believed him to be deficient in those affections, would you not advise your sister accordingly?"

His comment struck home and Elizabeth was forced to acknowledge the truth of this assertion, as unwilling as she was to do so. She knew herself well enough to believe that, if Jane – or another of her sisters – was to receive a proposal from one she believed mercenary, she would not hesitate to advise accordingly. As she considered this, her feelings on the manner in which he spoke of her family in terms of such mortifying yet merited reproach, her sense of shame was severe. The justice of the charge struck her too forcibly for denial, and the circumstances to which he particularly alluded, as having passed at the Netherfield ball, and as confirming all his first disapprobation, could not have made a stronger impression on his mind than on hers.

The compliment to herself and her sister was not unfelt. It soothed, but it could not console her for the contempt which had been thus self-attracted by the rest of her family; and as she considered that Jane's disappointment had in fact been the work of her nearest relations, and reflected how materially the credit of both must be hurt by such impropriety of conduct, she felt depressed beyond anything she had ever known before. In disquietude she walked for several minutes with little attention to her surroundings or her companion and, if she had been asked, would have been grateful if he were to leave her to enjoy her suffering in solitude.

But Mr. Darcy, taking her silence as assent to continue, felt obliged to finish his disquisition, "There is, Miss Bennet, but one part of my conduct in the whole affair, on which I do not reflect with satisfaction; it is that I condescended to adopt the measures of art so far as to conceal from Bingley your sister's being in town. I knew it myself, as it was known to Miss Bingley, but her brother is even yet ignorant of it. That they might have met without ill consequence is, perhaps, probable; but his regard did not appear to me enough extinguished for him to see her without some danger. Perhaps this concealment, this disguise, was beneath me. It is done, however, and it was done for the best. On this subject I have nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I have wounded your sister's feelings, it was unknowingly done; and though the motives which governed me may to you very naturally appear insufficient, I have not yet learned to condemn them."

Elizabeth had, without realizing that she was doing so, turned and had begun her return to the Parsonage. Her thoughts were in too much turmoil to allow for sensible discourse. Making little effort to mask her distaste for the gentleman walking beside her - that his words merited her consideration and revaluation she acknowledged - but the man himself she could not view with favour and did not try to do so.

With a cold civility so much in contradiction to her normal manner that Mr. Darcy could not but be aware of her dislike and anger, she finally responded, "You have given me much to think on, sir. You have assured me of your ignorance of my sister's affections and I concede that you may have inadvertently misunderstood her nature; however, that your opinions were guided to some degree by your disdain for me, my family and my neighbours I am reluctant to disbelieve. From the very beginning, from the first moment I may almost say, of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form a groundwork of disapprobation, of dislike that I find it almost impossible to afford your words the merit they deserve. For this I apologize and provide my assurances that I will be able to reflect on them more easily as time passes."

As she was about to take her leave of him, she saw that Mr. Darcy, with his eyes fixed on her face, appeared to catch her words with no less resentment than surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and would not open his lips, till he believed himself to have attained it. The pause was, to Elizabeth's feelings, dreadful. At length, in a voice of forced calmness, he said, "And this is your opinion of me?" that he wished to say more was obvious but his composure was intact as he continued, "You believe me to dislike you? To hold you in disdain? Is this truly your belief?"

"Yes Mr. Darcy it is. You made your opinion of me quite clear the very first occasion of our being in company together. I was not handsome enough to tempt you - those I believe were your very words and that it would be a punishment to dance with me. Why would I not believe you to hold me in disdain? Your subsequent disapproval was evident in the stares you directed my way. I could not help but believe they signified your contempt and belief in my inferiority. Your disapproval was obvious to me and others. My family and neighbours were also embraced by that disdain which you did not scruple to display." Elizabeth felt uneasy relating these particulars to Mr. Darcy but since they were unlikely to be in company again, she could see no reason to be less than truthful.

Darcy looked at her with amazement and puzzlement compounding incredulity. He found himself laughing in disbelief but her shocked expression quickly caused him to stifle his mirth. His voice was rueful as he replied, "I must ask your forgiveness for that appalling lack of manners. That you believe me to dislike you, I find incredible." He cast a mortified look at the sky before facing her and saying, "The truth, madam, is quite the reverse. Very much the reverse but I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness."

With these words he hastily turned and walked away to return to Rosings; and Elizabeth watched him until he was hidden from sight on the path he had chosen.

The tumult of her mind was now painfully great. She knew not how to support herself, and from actual weakness sat down and cried for half an hour. Her astonishment, as she reflected on what had passed, was increased by every review of it. After wandering along the lane for two hours, giving way to every variety of thought; reconsidering events, determining probabilities, and reconciling herself, as well as she could, to a change so sudden and so important, fatigue, and a recollection of her long absence made her at length return home; and she entered the house with the wish of appearing cheerful as usual, and the resolution of repressing such reflections as must make her unfit for conversation.

She was immediately told that Colonel Fitzwilliam had called during her absence and had been sitting with them at least an hour, hoping for her return, and almost resolving to walk after her till she could be found. Elizabeth could but just affect concern in missing him; she really rejoiced at it. Colonel Fitzwilliam was no longer an object. She could think only of Mr. Darcy's words – 'The truth madam is quite the reverse. Very much the reverse' Was Charlotte correct after all? Did Mr. Darcy hold her in some affection in spite of all the objections which had made him prevent his friend's marrying her sister, and which must appear at least with equal force in his own case, was almost incredible! It would be gratifying to have unconsciously inspired so strong an affection, if she indeed had done so but this she found hard to believe. But his pride, his abominable pride and the inferiority of her connections compared to his own and the impropriety of her family would surely ensure that such an interest would be of a short duration.

In the middle of the afternoon, while the ladies of the Parsonage were sitting in the parlour, the ring of the doorbell signalled a visitor. To Elizabeth's surprise, Mr. Darcy entered the room and, after a quick glance at Elizabeth, immediately approached Mrs. Collins to express his compliments and to take his leave of her and Mr. Collins. After a short conversation with her, he moved to speak to Elizabeth who, upon seeing him approach, resolved to speak of her intentions with respect to Mr. Wickham. Rising she moved to the window and turned to face him as he came to stand beside her. Speaking quietly she addressed him thus, "Mr. Darcy, I do not know if Colonel Fitzwilliam has spoken to you on the matter but he has given me leave to speak to my father about the possibility of Mr. Wickham being in debt to the shopkeepers of Meryton who can ill-afford losses if they exist. I will also impart to my father the colonel's opinion with respect to Mr. Wickham's ….ah, behaviour to young women – even those with no dowry." Her voice dropped even lower, "You may rest assured that your sister's name shall not be mentioned."

Darcy's surprise at her words was obvious and, if a brief flicker of displeasure crossed his features, it was replaced quickly by a look akin to satisfaction, "That would be well done, Miss Bennet."

"I would also impart to him such information as would refute the charges against you that Mr. Wickham has made common knowledge in Meryton, unless you prefer otherwise. I will be ruled by you on that matter."

Elizabeth watched coolly as Darcy considered her words and their implications. Finally, after a lengthy pause he replied with a slight upturn of his lips, "I think I might I appreciate that, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth did not understand what he could find to amuse him in her proposal but nodded and was about to return to her seat when he spoke once more, "Miss Bennet, I believe you are to return to London on Saturday next are you not? And will stay a few days with your relatives there?"

"Yes?"

"To your relatives who live on Gracechurch Street?"

"Indeed" Elizabeth was puzzled at these questions and the next only added to her confusion.

"And the name of your relatives is?"

Elizabeth's confusion was now quite obvious to Darcy and his small smile irritated her greatly but she responded civilly nonetheless, "Gardiner, sir. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner."

Darcy, she could see, was not going to explain his interest or reasons for these questions and the only reasons she could think to explain them made little sense. Before she could form a question on the matter, he bowed to her and, with a final word to Mrs. Collins, took his leave of them all.

Mrs. Collins spoke to her sister, sending her on an errand to the kitchen with the intent, Elizabeth could see clearly, to have a private conversation with her friend. Her first words were much to the point, "Mr. Darcy was not so silent today, Lizzy. Of what did you speak?"

Elizabeth was not prepared to disclose Mr. Darcy's questions relating to her relatives in London; she would have to think more on those. However, she was not reluctant to discuss her plans to inform her father of Mr. Wickham's dealings and Charlotte, upon learning of those plans, spoke warmly in their favour. On one point, however, she was less certain, "Are you sure that revealing Mr. Wickham's lies about Mr. Darcy is necessary? Or wise? What do you hope to gain by it?"

Elizabeth's manner suggested an equal mixture of embarrassment and ire, "Mr. Wickham used me to spread his lies and I was a most willing accomplice. I feel a fool and do not like that feeling at all!"

"I see. I would be cautious – perhaps you should wait until Mr. Wickham's character has been revealed, that his debts are made known before speaking."

Elizabeth considered that suggestion thoughtfully and finally nodded in agreement. Further conversation on the topic was prevented by the return of Maria who appeared oblivious to the nature of the talks between her sister and Elizabeth.


	6. Chapter 6

**Time to Reflect**

The two gentlemen left Rosings the next morning; and Mr. Collins having been in waiting near the lodges, to make them his parting obeisance, was able to bring home the pleasing intelligence of their appearing in very good health, and in as tolerable spirits as could be expected, after the melancholy scene so lately gone through at Rosings. To Rosings he then hastened to console Lady Catherine and her daughter; and on his return brought back, with great satisfaction, a message from her ladyship, importing that she felt herself so dull as to make her very desirous of having them all to dine with her.

Elizabeth felt no regrets at the departure of Mr. Darcy and his cousin and viewed her own with increasing pleasure. One task, however, she felt impelled to undertake immediately; she must write her father and impart to him all the particulars that had been revealed by Colonel Fitzwilliam. Knowing her father's habits of indolence, she was far from sure that he would act upon such information; and, to this end she thought that information as to Colonel Fitzwilliam's possible intervention might provide her father with an excuse to avoid taking any action and hence might best be omitted from her letter. To this end, she assigned her concerns for the well-being of the merchants and their daughters to the Colonel, with her role simply to convey such concerns to her father. However, she did not scruple to suggest to her father that Mr. Wickham's attentions to Miss Mary King might be injurious to that young woman and her guardians might be warned of the man's background. While she might wait until she returned to Longbourn to inform her father, a delay of almost a fortnight might only increase the number of debts incurred or fail to ensure Miss King's protection. She could see no reason to delay and valid reasons to avoid doing so and thus, within an hour, the letter had been written and sent on its way to Longbourn.

Later that day, as she entered the drawing room at Rosings Park, Elizabeth could not see Lady Catherine without recollecting that she had once considered Mr. Darcy to be much like his aunt; now she recognized that her perception was much at fault. There was some commonality in terms of pride but Mr. Darcy's understanding and civility was much superior to that of his aunt. Such thoughts, however, were not long in being banished from her mind by Lady Catherine's conversation.

Their first subject was the diminution of the Rosings party. "I assure you, I feel it exceedingly," said Lady Catherine; "I believe nobody feels the loss of friends as much as I do. But I am particularly attached to these young men; and know them to be so much attached to me! They were excessively sorry to go! But so they always are. The dear colonel rallied his spirits tolerably till just at last; but Darcy seemed to feel it most acutely, more I think than last year. His attachment to Rosings certainly increases."

Mr. Collins had a compliment, and an allusion to throw in here, which were kindly smiled on by the mother and daughter.

Lady Catherine observed, after dinner, that Miss Bennet seemed out of spirits; and immediately accounting for it herself, by supposing that she did not like to go home again so soon, she added, "But if that is the case, you must write to your mother to beg that you may stay a little longer. Mrs. Collins will be very glad of your company, I am sure."

"I am much obliged to your ladyship for your kind invitation," replied Elizabeth, "but it is not in my power to accept it. I must be in town next Saturday."

"Why, at that rate, you will have been here only six weeks. I expected you to stay two months. I told Mrs. Collins so before you came. There can be no occasion for your going so soon. Mrs. Bennet could certainly spare you for another fortnight."

"But my father cannot. He wrote last week to hurry my return."

"Oh! Your father of course may spare you, if your mother can. Daughters are never of so much consequence to a father. And if you will stay another month complete, it will be in my power to take one of you as far as London, for I am going there early in June, for a week; and as Dawson does not object to the Barouche box, there will be very good room for one of you and indeed, if the weather should happen to be cool, I should not object to taking you both, as you are neither of you large."

"You are all kindness, Madam; but I believe we must abide by our original plan."

Lady Catherine seemed resigned. "Mrs. Collins, you must send a servant with them. You know I always speak my mind, and I cannot bear the idea of two young women travelling post by themselves. It is highly improper. You must contrive to send somebody. I have the greatest dislike in the world to that sort of thing. Young women should always be properly guarded and attended, according to their situation in life. When my niece Georgiana went to Ramsgate last summer, I made a point of her having two men servants go with her. Miss Darcy, the daughter of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, and Lady Anne, could not have appeared with propriety in a different manner. I am excessively attentive to all those things. You must send John with the young ladies, Mrs. Collins. I am glad it occurred to me to mention it; for it would really be discreditable to you to let them go alone."

"My uncle is to send a servant for us."

"Oh! Your uncle! He keeps a man-servant, does he? I am very glad you have somebody who thinks of those things. Where shall you change horses? Oh! Bromley, of course. If you mention my name at the Bell, you will be attended to."

Lady Catherine had many other questions to ask respecting their journey, and as she did not answer them all herself, attention was necessary, which Elizabeth believed to be lucky for her - with a mind so occupied, she might have forgotten where she was. Reflection must be reserved for solitary hours; whenever she was alone, she gave way to it as the greatest relief; and not a day went by without a solitary walk, in which she might indulge in all the delight of unpleasant recollections.

Mr. Darcy's explanation, she was in a fair way of soon knowing by heart. She remembered every word he spoke: and her feelings towards him were at times widely different. When she remembered the style of his address, she was still full of indignation; but when she considered how unjustly she had condemned and upbraided him in her past perceptions of him, her anger was turned against herself. His general character merited respect; but she could not approve him; nor could she for a moment repent her words of censure, or feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again.

In her own past behaviour, there was a constant source of vexation and regret; and in the unhappy defects of her family a subject of yet heavier chagrin. They were hopeless of remedy. Her father, content with laughing at them, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters; and her mother, with manners so far from right herself, was entirely insensible of the evil. Elizabeth had frequently united with Jane in an endeavour to check the imprudence of Catherine and Lydia; but while they were supported by their mother's indulgence, what chance could there be of improvement? Catherine, weak-spirited, irritable, and completely under Lydia's guidance, had been always affronted by their advice; and Lydia, self-willed and careless, would scarcely give them a hearing. They were ignorant, idle, and vain. While there was an officer in Meryton, they would flirt with him; and while Meryton was within a walk of Longbourn, they would be going there forever.

Anxiety on Jane's behalf was another prevailing concern, and Mr. Darcy's explanation, by restoring Bingley to all her former good opinion, heightened the sense of what Jane had lost. His affection was proved to have been sincere, and his conduct cleared of all blame, unless any could attach to the implicitness of his confidence in his friend. How grievous then was the thought that, of a situation so desirable in every respect, so replete with advantage, so promising for happiness, Jane had been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family!

When to these recollections was added the development of Wickham's character, it may be easily believed that the happy spirits which had seldom been depressed before, were now so much affected as to make it almost impossible for her to appear tolerably cheerful. Her greatest confusion arose when she considered his words when he took his leave of her after their walk. His manner contained all the pride she could have expected from him but clearly tempered by surprise when he learned of her dislike. Clearly he had thought otherwise and when she remembered his words "The truth, madam, is quite the reverse. Very much the reverse…" Did this mean he held her in affection? Was Charlotte correct after all? But how could she have known? Even Charlotte had finally conceded that she could detect few signs of regard, no dislike perhaps but not affection. And yet now, when she looked back on his actions, it was possible to see them as attempts to show his regard for her. Fumbling, confused attempts surely but, if his words were to have a meaning, he must have held her in some regard. That it was to be of short duration seemed likely if she was to give weight to his expression as he had left her, "but I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been."

But then when she thought about his behaviour when he came to take his leave of Charlotte, her confusion mounted. His manner was quite different once more – almost amiable – and she thought he appeared almost amused at her confusion at his questions about her return to London. What could he mean by such questions? What purpose would be served by such knowledge? Surely he did not mean to call on the Gardiners? She could not imagine that he would so – not after decrying such connections. It was altogether too puzzling and finally she resolved to think on it no more.

Their engagements at Rosings were as frequent during the last week of her stay as they had been at first. The very last evening was spent there; and her Ladyship again enquired minutely into the particulars of their journey, gave them directions as to the best method of packing, and was so urgent on the necessity of placing gowns in the only right way, that Maria thought herself obliged, on her return, to undo all the work of the morning, and pack her trunk afresh.

When they parted, Lady Catherine, with great condescension, wished them a good journey, and invited them to come to Hunsford again next year; and Miss De Bourgh exerted herself so far as to curtsey and hold out her hand to both.

On Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr. Collins met for breakfast a few minutes before the others appeared; and he took the opportunity of paying the parting civilities which he deemed indispensably necessary. "I know not, Miss Elizabeth," said he, "whether Mrs. Collins has yet expressed her sense of your kindness in coming to us, but I am very certain you will not leave the house without receiving her thanks for it. The favour of your company has been much felt, I assure you. We know how little there is to tempt any one to our humble abode. Our plain manner of living, our small rooms, and few domestics, and the little we see of the world, must make Hunsford extremely dull to a young lady like yourself; but I hope you will believe us grateful for the condescension, and that we have done everything in our power to prevent your spending your time unpleasantly."

Elizabeth was eager with her thanks and assurances of happiness. She had spent six weeks with great enjoyment; and the pleasure of being with Charlotte, and the kind attentions she had received, must make her feel obliged.

Mr. Collins was gratified; and with a more smiling solemnity replied, "It gives me the greatest pleasure to hear that you have passed your time not disagreeably. We have certainly done our best; and most fortunately having it in our power to introduce you to very superior society, and, from our connection with Rosings, the frequent means of varying the humble home scene, I think we may flatter ourselves that your Hunsford visit cannot have been entirely irksome. Our situation with regard to Lady Catherine's family is indeed the sort of extraordinary advantage and blessing of which few can boast. You see on what a footing we are. You see how continually we are engaged there. In truth I must acknowledge that, with all the disadvantages of this humble Parsonage, I should not think anyone abiding in it an object of compassion while they are sharers of our intimacy at Rosings."

Words were insufficient for the elevation of his feelings; and he was obliged to walk about the room, while Elizabeth tried to unite civility and truth in a few short sentences. "You may, in fact, carry a very favourable report of us into Hertfordshire, my dear cousin. I flatter myself, at least, that you will be able to do so. Lady Catherine's great attentions to Mrs. Collins you have been a daily witness of; and altogether I trust it does not appear that your friend has drawn an unfortunate... but on this point it will be as well to be silent. Only let me assure you, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that I can from my heart most cordially wish you equal felicity in marriage. My dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of thinking. There is in everything a most remarkable resemblance of character and ideas between us. We seem to have been designed for each other."

Elizabeth could safely say that it was a great happiness where that was the case, and with equal sincerity could add that she firmly believed and rejoiced in his domestic comforts. She was not sorry, however, to have the recital of them interrupted by the entrance of the lady from whom they sprung. Poor Charlotte!—it was melancholy to leave her to such society!—But she had chosen it with her eyes open; and though evidently regretting that her visitors were to go, she did not seem to ask for compassion. Her home and her housekeeping, her parish and her poultry, and all their dependent concerns, had not yet lost their charms.

At length the chaise arrived, the trunks were fastened on, the parcels placed within, and it was pronounced to be ready. After an affectionate parting between the friends, Elizabeth was attended to the carriage by Mr. Collins, and as they walked down the garden, he was commissioning her with his best respects to all her family, not forgetting his thanks for the kindness he had received at Longbourn in the winter, and his compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though unknown. He then handed her in, Maria followed, and the door was on the point of being closed, when he suddenly reminded them, with some consternation, that they had hitherto forgotten to leave any message for the ladies at Rosings.

"But," he added, "You will of course wish to have your humble respects delivered to them, with your grateful thanks for their kindness to you while you have been here."

Elizabeth made no objection;—the door was then allowed to be shut, and the carriage drove off.

"Good gracious!" cried Maria, after a few minutes silence, "it seems but a day or two since we first came! And yet how many things have happened!"

"A great many indeed," said her companion with a sigh.

"We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there twice!—How much I shall have to tell!"

Elizabeth privately added, "And how much I may have to conceal, for I doubt I can reveal all to Jane and none of it can safely be told to my mother."

Their journey was performed without much conversation, or any alarm; and within four hours of their leaving Hunsford, they reached Mr. Gardiner's house, where Elizabeth was to remain a few days while Maria continued the trip to her home. Jane looked well, and Elizabeth had little opportunity of studying her spirits, amidst the various engagements which the kindness of her aunt had reserved for them. But Jane was to go home with her, and at Longbourn there would be leisure enough for observation.

It was not without an effort, meanwhile, that she could wait even for Longbourn, before she told her sister of the particulars of what had been revealed by Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy. To know that she had the power of revealing what would so exceedingly astonish Jane - the possibility of Mr. Darcy having formed an attraction for Elizabeth – no matter how weak or short-lived – added impetus at the same time, both to the state of indecision in which she remained as to the extent of what she should communicate; as well as her fear, if she once entered on the subject, of being hurried into repeating something of Bingley which might only grieve her sister further.


	7. Chapter 7

**An Offer is Made**

Elizabeth's resolve to wait until she and Jane had returned to Longbourn to discuss the happenings at the Parsonage received a severe setback the next day as she, Mrs. Gardiner and Jane were comfortably settled in the family sitting room discussing the engagements which Mrs. Gardiner had planned for the following days. The sound of a carriage drawing up to the front of the house was shortly followed by the maid entering the room and announcing, "Mr. Darcy, ma'am."

That gentleman's entrance followed closely on those words and Elizabeth's surprise left her speechless for several moments until finally, collecting herself and remembering her duties, she said, "Mr. Darcy, may I present to you my aunt, Mrs. Gardiner. Aunt, this is Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire."

Mr. Darcy bowed to Mrs. Gardiner, saying, "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Gardiner."

Mrs. Gardiner collected herself sufficiently to respond, "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Darcy. I understand that Elizabeth renewed her acquaintance with you in Kent."

"Indeed, we dined together several times with my Aunt and I had the pleasure of walking with her several times."

Jane's eyebrows rose upon hearing this and her questioning look directed at Elizabeth told the latter that she would not be spared from revealing all that happened in Kent until they returned to Longbourn. None of her sister's letters had spoken of such intimacy. To redirect Jane's attention, she responded, "Indeed we did. Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy's cousin, was also in our company during this time. How is the Colonel, Mr. Darcy?"

"He is very well but has been called unexpectedly to Newcastle to deal with some urgent problems there. I cannot say when he will return but it may not be for a fortnight or more."

Elizabeth realized that her letter to her father had taken on a greater importance and that she might need to ask her father to contact Colonel Forster himself rather than wait for Colonel Fitzwilliam to do so. Elizabeth realized that Jane's gaze remained fixed on her and that she had detected something in Elizabeth's mien that suggested Darcy's words were of some significance. Fortunately, Jane's attention was directed back to Mr. Darcy as he greeted her before taking a seat next to Mrs. Gardiner. As Elizabeth watched with some surprise, he conversed with her aunt on their doings in Kent until Mrs. Gardiner mentioned that she had lived in Lambton in her youth and had visited the park at Pemberley several times. The conversation that followed was interesting to both as they exchanged reminiscences of the area. Elizabeth was pleased Mr. Darcy could see her aunt to be a well-spoken and genteel lady; and she found herself equally surprised at his manner. Gone was the haughty and prideful reserve that typified his behaviour in Hertfordshire. If he was not as easy and amiable as his cousin, he appeared to have put aside his reserve and was attempting to be civil and interested in the conversation.

To all appearances Mr. Darcy was not uncomfortable conversing with them all, drawing both Elizabeth and Jane into the discussion of Derbyshire and exploring with them comparisons between that place and Kent and Hertfordshire.

Elizabeth was, she admitted, sorely puzzled by Mr. Darcy's behaviour. What could he mean by visiting the Gardiners? What was his purpose? And how to explain this change in manners? It was truly vexing. She longed to ask that question but knew it to be impossible. Finally, conversation started to lapse and Elizabeth was recalled from her reflections by her aunt's rather amused, "Lizzy!"

Becoming aware that she was being regarded by the other three persons in the room, she realized that she had been addressed but had been oblivious to the question. In some embarrassment, she said, "I must apologize. I was lost in thought. Of what were you speaking?"

Mrs. Gardiner chuckled, "Indeed you were – quite lost. Mr. Darcy asked a question."

Elizabeth directed her eyes at that gentleman, her raised eyebrow prompting him to say, "I simply expressed a desire to walk in the park down the street and for your company in doing so."

Elizabeth controlled her surprise – not overly difficult she found, as she had become rather inured to surprises this day – and considered her answer. It took but a few seconds to agree to the request since she could think of no good reason to decline. What could he mean by such a request? Her opinion of Mr. Darcy had improved although she still found much to disapprove of the man but to refuse under the circumstances would be uncivil and, if she had learned nothing else from her aunt, it was that there were very few excuses for incivility. Jane was applied to join them but begged to be excused and so Elizabeth - after retrieving her bonnet, pelisse and gloves - accompanied Darcy out of the house.

Darcy's reticence seemed to return as they began their stroll down the street. His offer of his arm to Elizabeth was accepted gingerly by the lady who laid her hand but lightly in his elbow. They walked in silence for several minutes before Elizabeth ventured to say, "I must admit to considerable surprise to have you call on us, Mr. Darcy."

"Did I not inquire as to your relatives' address before I left? What did you suppose I meant by it?" Elizabeth thought she detected a slight amusement in his tone of voice.

Elizabeth blushed slightly, "I knew not…I did not expect you to call. Miss Bingley apparently had made her disdain for my relatives quite clear. I believed you to share her opinions."

"I will not deny that there is some merit in what you have said. I was too ready to consider those outside my circle as beneath my notice. My behaviour is not something I can now view with pleasure." He walked on in silence for a few moments before looking down at Elizabeth, "Miss Bennet, I would recall to your memory our last walk in Kent. Before we parted, I gave you to believe two things." He shook his head before continuing, "Even as I said them, I knew that one of those statements was a falsehood. I spoke in anger, in disappointment. I said, if you remember, that I did not dislike you at all, quite the reverse in fact. I also said I was ashamed of what my own feelings had been. That was untrue. I was not ashamed - my feelings have not altered at all."

Elizabeth could not conceive of any possible answer. That he regarded her with affection, she struggled to believe. His next words compounded her confusion - or rather the tone of his voice did so - since she had never heard Mr. Darcy speak so gently, "You do not like me, do you Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth glanced up at his face quickly but could see no anger, no disdain, nothing but a quiet concentration, his eyes intent on her face. It was much the same look he had directed at her at times in Hertfordshire and again in Kent. Now she recognized it for what it was. He was not glaring at her, at least, not now. She forced herself to respond, "I feel I have been given little reason to like you, sir."

Darcy nodded, "I agree." He could not help but smile at the amazement that spread over her face, "Truly, Miss Bennet, I can hardly fault you for being confused about my feelings when I battled them myself for months. In Hertfordshire I found myself attracted but fought the attraction and – to my shame – made every effort to hide it. Most successfully it appears, would you not agree?"

Elizabeth found herself smiling in return, "Very successfully, sir. I might add that even Charlotte Collins, who once thought you to admire me, came to believe herself wrong when she observed your behaviour in Kent."

"And yet – to my embarrassment – I had believed you to be aware of my interest, of my attentions; that I was showing my interest by my calls at the Parsonage and joining you on your walks; and that you were, in fact, soliciting my interest there. That was not your intent, was it?"

"No, Mr. Darcy, it was not. I believed you to dislike me and was trying to suggest you could avoid me by walking a different path. Your continued presence confused me greatly."

By this time they had entered the small park and were walking the path that wound its way around the perimeter. Darcy opened and closed his mouth several times, obviously struggling to express his thoughts. Elizabeth watched and wondered. What ensued left her equally bereft of words.

"Miss Bennet, my feelings for you are…you must allow me to tell you how much I admire and love you." He turned to face her and held up his hand as though to prevent her from speaking although she was too overcome with surprise to do so, He then said, "Please, I can see that you are shocked. I expected it to be so. If I thought there was any chance of you accepting an offer of marriage, I would make it but your …opinion of me that you expressed so strongly in Kent leads me to believe such an offer would not be accepted. I am not wrong, am I?"

Elizabeth's answer was so quiet as almost to be inaudible, "No sir, you are not."

"That is as I thought." They walked without talking for several minutes, Elizabeth struggled to assimilate what she had been told and confused as to where he planned to direct their conversation. That he had a direction, she was now sure. He appeared to have anticipated her responses and, if so, must have a goal in mind. Clearly, he would not have visited Gracechurch Street if he had planned to withdraw. His next words did not altogether surprise, although she had not expected them.

"Miss Bennet, I would like the opportunity to change your opinion of me. I have spent much of the past week trying to view my behaviour and understand how I could have earned such disapprobation from you. I do not like what I found, what I saw. I believe that I have not behaved towards you as a man should behave if he wants to obtain the good opinion, the affections if you will, of a woman for whom he has developed an attraction. In essence, Miss Bennet, I wish to court you properly with the objective of making you an offer of marriage when the time is right."

Elizabeth knew that she must respond in some fashion although her thoughts were too jumbled to admit of a coherent and thoughtful answer and so she temporized, "I cannot deny or hide my surprise Mr. Darcy. Even if I were to agree to a courtship, I cannot promise that my opinion will change or that my answer will be favourable."

"I am quite aware of that Miss Bennet. I do not expect an answer today. Could I call on you on Tuesday to receive your response? Is two days sufficient time?"

Elizabeth continued to walk in silence. She could feel a degree of frustration and confusion that she had never before experienced. Why could he not leave her in peace? She controlled the urge to reject his offer, knowing that it was frustration and her anger and dislike of him that was driving such a precipitous response. His manner today and her many errors of judgement with regard to him, required that she treat him with more consideration and so she replied, "Very well, Mr. Darcy. If you call on me on Tuesday next, I will have your answer."

Elizabeth was surprised to see a look of relief cross his countenance and guessed that he was concerned she might even refuse him directly. Oddly enough, that uncertainty pleased her although she knew not why.

They walked on in a strangely comfortable silence for several minutes until Darcy rather hesitantly said, "I wish you to know something else. I have considered your words very carefully - your charges against me in regards to your sister and Bingley. I am prepared to believe that I could be wrong about your sister's affections for him. That I cannot hold with the same certainty as before that my opinion is, in fact, correct. In such a circumstance, I should not advise my friend on that matter at all. I have written to Bingley – he is in the north at the moment visiting his relations there – and asked him to call on me as soon as he returns to town. I am resolved to admit to him then that my opinion may be incorrect and advise him to determine for himself the state of your sister's affections." He paused to look at Elizabeth and the satisfaction which greeted his words was clear. Nevertheless, he felt obligated to caution her expectations, "I do not believe Bingley likely to return for a fortnight at least. I assume your sister also returns to Longbourn in a few days. I will also assure you that I will do what I promised, regardless of the answer I receive on Tuesday."

Elizabeth considered him closely. She realized that she had no doubt that he would act as he had stated. His honour, she comprehended, would not allow him to do otherwise and so she nodded in acknowledgement before adding, "Yes, Jane returns to Longbourn on Tuesday next, as will I." She paused to consider that she was to give him an answer that day and then said, "Our schedule is not fixed and for us to stay an extra day or two would not burden my aunt and uncle."

By this time they had reached the front door of the Gardiner house and Elizabeth removed her hand from his arm – oddly enough, she thought, it had been rather comfortable there – as they entered the house. Darcy's carriage was called and, while waiting for it to arrive, they returned to the sitting room for him to take his proper leave of Mrs. Gardiner and Jane. Shortly thereafter he left and Elizabeth turned to face the combined gazes of her aunt and sister and, realizing that she would have much to discuss with them both, murmured, "There is no time at present to discuss all that has happened. I will need your advice and guidance but not now. Later tonight perhaps, and certainly tomorrow, we will have much to discuss."

Although clearly not happy to defer such a discussion, both ladies recognized that time did not permit it since they were required to prepare for the evening's engagement. Mrs. Gardiner's parting comment, however, warned Elizabeth that nothing less than the complete truth would do, "I wonder at your description of Mr. Darcy, Lizzy. I found him to be perfectly amiable and pleasant. Your letters have not suggested the degree of familiarity and amiable behaviour that he showed today. Would you not agree?"

"True aunt, although I have never seen him as amiable as he was today." Elizabeth would not be drawn further on the subject and quickly removed to her room to prepare herself for the evening.

An evening in company with close friends of her aunt and uncle who were slightly known to both Elizabeth and Jane from previous visits and who were themselves pleasant and intelligent, should have made for a delightful engagement; but Elizabeth found it most difficult to keep her attention engaged in the conversation that surrounded her. All too frequently her thoughts would meander towards Mr. Darcy and the conundrum that he was posing for her. Elizabeth's distraction did not go unnoticed by the others whose civility was such as to preclude their making mention of it. Nonetheless, her aunt, in particular, was determined to interrogate her niece, whom she knew to be both sensible but extremely reserved in her private affairs, as soon as was possible. So firmly were her intentions fixed in this regard, that the Gardiners and their nieces separated from their hosts, in order to return home, rather sooner than was their usual wont.

They had but gained the Gardiner home for a few minutes when Mrs. Gardiner, with a speaking glance at her husband, saying, "Now my dear, it is not too late for you to enjoy a glass of port and a book in your study. Perhaps Jane might join you?" Jane looked rather surprised at such a directive, clearly having hoped to be part of any discussion with her sister, but also understanding that her aunt might wish to have a more private interview with Elizabeth.

Mr. Gardiner was not unaware of the day's events involving Mr. Darcy, of his wife's concerns or that his niece had been unusually distracted that evening and simply nodded and said, "That is an excellent idea, my dear. Should you desire my presence or help, you know where to find me. Jane, will you join me?" to which she assented, since it was too early to prepare for bed and she hoped, rather than expected, that she might have the opportunity to talk later with her sister.

Mrs. Gardiner first checked on her children before arranging to have tea and biscuits delivered to her sitting room where she subsequently directed her steps, considering as she went how best to approach the matter with Elizabeth. Upon entering the room she found her sitting in a chair near the fire – the evening was cool and the warmth of the fire quite pleasant. Taking the opposing chair she returned to her internal deliberations and, finally seeing that Elizabeth was reluctant to open the discussion, opined, "I cannot reconcile the Mr. Darcy I met today with the one you described to me at Christmas."

Elizabeth grimaced, "Neither can I aunt. And he did not behave so in Kent."

The arrival of the maid with the tea service stopped all conversation until she had left and both ladies had prepared a cup of tea to their satisfaction. Mrs. Gardiner considered her niece carefully, thinking about what had happened that day before speaking, "Lizzy, you appeared much as you ever were before Mr. Darcy appeared. It is only after you returned from your walk with him that you seemed seriously discomposed. What happened on that walk?"

Elizabeth sighed. She knew that this conversation was necessary – indeed, she had almost wished for it – but it would not be an easy one to endure. To reveal her mistakes, errors of judgement, foolish preferences and vanity to her aunt, a woman whose opinion she valued almost as much as that of her father, would be embarrassing and distressing. Reluctantly she began, "Mr. Darcy asked to court me."

Mrs. Gardiner sat back in surprise. Clearly she had not expected such a response, "Court you! Are you sure? Of course you are! How stupid of me! What did…How did you respond?"

Elizabeth gave a rather mirthless laugh, "You are no more surprised than I, aunt." Several seconds passed before she said, "He must have realized how shocked I was because he did not insist on an answer immediately. He is to call Tuesday. I have promised him an answer then." She looked at her aunt, "I need your advice, your guidance because truly I am too confused to know how to answer."

"Well, we do have time to consider the matter Lizzy. We do not have to reach a decision tonight." She sat quietly for a few minutes, her face not concealing that her thoughts absorbed her before finally saying to Elizabeth, "I would wish to understand your dealings with the gentleman from the very beginning. I know we talked of him last Christmas, but I would like to know the particulars from your very first meeting." She paused for a moment, "You may find the telling to be helpful as well, do you not think?"

Elizabeth nodded but sat in silence for several minutes, her aunt watching her closely as she organized her thoughts. Finally Elizabeth spoke, "I first saw Mr. Darcy at the Assembly in Meryton when he and the Bingleys were introduced to us all."

Mrs. Gardiner interjected, "What was your first impression of him, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth's smile was rueful, "I quite thought him the handsomest man I had ever seen." Her pause was almost imperceptible as she continued, "However, within a very few minutes I was irritated by his incivility and, by the end of the evening, insulted and believed him to be the rudest, most conceited and arrogant gentleman I had the misfortune to meet."

"Was that the whole of his incivility? It seems rather trifling to me to warrant such disapproval as you expressed to me. I believe I must insist on your full confidence in this Lizzy. You must tell me all!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Mrs. Gardiner Advises**

If Elizabeth had any doubts as to her aunt's determination that her niece make a full disclosure of her dealings with Mr. Darcy, they were of a short duration. What followed was by turns embarrassing and humiliating in equal measures with moments of humour and mortification and confusion interwoven. Mrs. Gardiner did not allow her to escape the revelation of any detail of Mr. Darcy's experiences in Hertfordshire; from the blow to her vanity when called 'not handsome enough to tempt me' and 'slighted by other men'; from her revenge in mocking Mr. Darcy to her friends and family; from the time spent at Netherfield nursing her sister and enduring the slights and incivilities from Mr. Bingley's sisters which she confessed that she had – at that time - believed to be shared by Mr. Darcy; from the revelations made by Mr. Wickham; and finally the dance Elizabeth shared with Mr. Darcy at the Netherfield ball.

Mrs. Gardiner probed and questioned until satisfied that Elizabeth had omitted no salient fact. Elizabeth sat back somewhat exhausted after nearly two hours of reconstructing her history with Mr. Darcy. The evening was advanced, she knew, and they had not touched on those matters that arose from her visit to Charlotte at Hunsford. She looked at her aunt with something akin to dread as she said, "I hope that you will grant me some relief. The hour grows late and I am sure we are both quite tired. Can we not continue this tomorrow?"

Mrs. Gardiner surveyed her niece with concern. She was not altogether pleased by what she had heard so far and while loath to chastise Elizabeth too harshly, felt that she should not hide her displeasure altogether. Cautiously, she responded, "I find myself rather concerned by your account so far, Elizabeth. I wish now we had talked more openly when I visited at Christmas. I will not hide from you that I believe that while you have grounds to be annoyed with Mr. Darcy based on your initial meeting; your subsequent behaviour was quite immoderate in relation to the offence against you. I had thought you more sensible than this."

Elizabeth could not hide her chagrin, "I had thought so also. I disparaged Mr. Darcy for his improper pride and yet mine was no less improper."

"Well, my dear, I will allow you to escape for now. I can see you are tired and need to rest. I will speak with Jane to ensure she does not importune you for explanations tonight." She rose and approached her niece and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead, "Get some rest, my dear. We will speak further in the morning after we break our fast."

Elizabeth was not sorry to reach the sanctuary of her room, nor that her aunt would prevent her sister from visiting and insisting upon a full disclosure of today's surprising events. Surprisingly, she found that her aunt's efforts to understand all that had happened while Mr. Darcy was in Hertfordshire had quite clarified the matter in her own mind. Her aunt had not spoken much of Mr. Wickham's story but her mien when that was mentioned suggested a degree of scepticism not previously present and Elizabeth had not even mentioned those details revealed by Colonel Fitzwilliam. Instead her aunt Gardiner had simply questioned the propriety of Mr. Wickham having told such a story to a very new acquaintance, had raised an eyebrow which discomfited Elizabeth exceedingly when she made known how her own disparagement of Mr. Darcy had prompted that story; and had nodded knowingly when Elizabeth acknowledged that Mr. Wickham had provided no proofs of his story. When told that he stated that he would never disparage the son due to his regard for the father, her frown had become of significant proportions and she could not help but exclaim, "And did this not alarm you, Lizzy! That he would claim to maintain secrecy while doing exactly the reverse? Did you not see the contradiction?"

Elizabeth had nodded sadly, "Truly, I was so pleased to get confirmation that Mr. Darcy was even worse than I believed that I ignored what was so obvious. I even congratulated Mr. Wickham on his forbearance in avoiding the Netherfield Ball – so as not to embarrass Mr. Bingley – despite Mr. Wickham having claimed he would not avoid Mr. Darcy, stating that Mr. Darcy must avoid him."

Elizabeth groaned into her pillow. She could not view her behaviour with anything but abhorrence. It was exceedingly difficult to think of Mr. Darcy without considering how she had misunderstood his character so badly. She, who so proudly proclaimed her ability to sketch someone's character, had failed miserably in this instance. If her thoughts were directed more to how she had so signally failed in such efforts, it was impossible not to recognize the difference between what she had thought she understood about his character and what she now believed to be the truth. She could not regret avoiding Jane tonight. It was hard enough to endure her aunt's gentle inquisition. Having to do so again with Jane tonight would be too much. Her nerves were raw as it were and even with Jane's gentle kindness, the telling would only exacerbate them further.

Her body told her it was tired but she little thought her mind would allow her to sleep and it was with no little surprise that she woke the next morning more rested than she had expected. The hour was early, with two hours to breakfast, and she resolved to venture out for a short walk. Dressing and running down stairs, she found a footman who could accompany her – her Uncle Gardiner insisted that she take a footman on such walks since London was a more dangerous place than Hertfordshire - and was soon walking briskly in the direction of the local park. Banishing thoughts of Mr. Darcy from her mind, she forced herself to walk as briskly as was possible and, to her pleasure, the air – although not as fresh as Hertfordshire – seemed to have been cleaned by an overnight rain and combined with the exhilaration of the exercise, raised her spirits considerably. By the time she entered the Gardiner home over an hour later, she was both happy and hungry.

When she had refreshed herself and ventured downstairs once more, breakfast was ready and she found Jane and her aunt already ensconced at the table and partaking of the meal. Her uncle, having eaten, had already left for his warehouse. Elizabeth felt herself the focus of the gaze of both her sister and her aunt although neither said more than the commonplace greetings. This quietude continued as she served herself and began to eat with the only conversation being about plans for the day and Jane's return to Longbourn on the morrow. If Elizabeth had any expectations that her aunt would not resume their discussion, they were vanquished by her quiet command, "I must check on the children. Jane, will you be able to take them out for an hour or so this morning?"

"Yes, aunt. The weather is warm and clear. We can visit the park." If Jane was aware that she was being politely excluded from the talk that her sister was going to hold with her aunt, she appeared unconcerned as far as Elizabeth could determine. "After all" she thought, "Jane will have her turn later – probably tonight."

Mrs. Gardiner then directed her attention to Elizabeth, saying "When you have finished eating, please come to my sitting room." She then left to check on her children while Elizabeth, with deliberate speed, finished her breakfast.

When she entered her aunt's sitting room, Elizabeth was slightly surprised that her aunt had not preceded her. In fact, it was some ten minutes before Mrs. Gardiner joined her which did little to soothe Elizabeth's nerves which had become more agitated as time passed. Her disquietude seemed to be apparent to Mrs. Gardiner when, as she made herself comfortable in the same chair she had occupied the previous night, she invited Elizabeth to do likewise. After asking if Elizabeth had slept well – and receiving a positive answer – she inquired about the early morning walk which led to a brief discussion about how much her niece had enjoyed it and how well it made her feel. Sensing that Elizabeth had calmed, Mrs. Gardiner asked, "Lizzy, Mr. Darcy left Netherfield before December and you did not see him again until you visited your friend in Hunsford. Did you have occasion to think much of him during those four or five months?"

Elizabeth took a few seconds to answer, "Not really, aunt. Apart from the stories spread by Mr. Wickham, there was no reason to do so. I suppose I must have thought of him once in a while but mainly in connection with Mr. Bingley. Mama's lamentations were a daily event I am afraid."

"What did you think of him?"

"I saw no reason to change my opinion. I suppose his absence moderated my dislike and when I met him again in Hunsford, I do believe I found him less irritating but only a little. He remained a puzzle." Elizabeth thought for a moment before adding, "Charlotte did raise one issue when we were discussing Mr. Darcy although it had more to do with Mr. Wickham. She was less impressed with him than I and noted that he did not appear to have had an occupation for the years after he left university. She wondered at how he made his living." Elizabeth's voice took on a bitter note, "Well, now I know. He was living off – wasting - the money that Mr. Darcy gave him."

"Ah yes, Mr. Wickham. I wish to know more about that gentleman and I believe you have much to tell me; but, before you do, I would prefer you to tell me what happened from the day Mr. Darcy arrived at Hunsford. I will allow you a few minutes to collect your thoughts while I arrange for some tea. I suspect we both will need it before we are done."

Elizabeth gazed into the fireplace where the fire had been banked to moderate the heat it threw off. The morning had been slightly chilly and the room itself had retained the chill and was only slowly warming up. When her aunt offered her a cup of tea, prepared as she preferred it, she settled back and began to revisit those three weeks that Mr. Darcy had been visiting his aunt. His visits and behaviour during them and his meeting her on her walks were noted with little questioning from her aunt other than, "And truly, you did not realize that he was deliberately meeting you on your walks?" That she could have been so blind was embarrassing for Elizabeth to admit but on the overall scale of the embarrassments she experienced, it was of little moment.

It was not until she began to talk of her final two walks with Colonel Fitzwilliam and the subsequent walks with Mr. Darcy that her aunt began to question her more closely with the evident purpose of extracting all pertinent details. When told of Mr. Wickham's actual dealings with Mr. Darcy as revealed by the Colonel, her concern became particularly noticeable when apprised of Mr. Wickham's alleged behaviour. Questioned about the possibility of that gentleman's imposing himself on young women in Meryton and on the shopkeeper fathers there, Elizabeth imparted Colonel Fitzwilliam's opinions and that she herself had written to her father and asked him to take appropriate action. Mrs. Gardiner was not particularly relieved by this news given her experience with Mr. Bennet's indolent habits. That the Colonel planned to write the Colonel of the _shire Regiment, appeared to give her more comfort.

Elizabeth considered whether to reveal that the young heiress that Mr. Wickham attempt to induce into an elopement was Mr. Darcy's sister but decided her promise of secrecy to that gentleman should be honoured and she could not see any particular benefit would accrue if Miss Darcy's involvement was revealed. One thing did puzzle Elizabeth. Her aunt, while clearly shocked by the revelations of Mr. Wickham's misdeeds, was nowhere as seriously discomposed as she herself had been. She sought an explanation from her aunt who was not slow to respond, "When you informed me of Mr. Wickham's attentions to Miss King, my opinion of him began to change or rather I questioned his behaviour. You refused to impart any mercenary motives to him but I could see nothing else and, if he could act so blatantly mercenary in that matter, what other flaws might he have and be concealing? I am surprised at his perfidy but not as much as you since my suspicions were already aroused."

If Mrs. Gardiner's opinion of Mr. Darcy was materially improved when his dealings with Wickham were described, that opinion suffered no little damage when Elizabeth described how he had been involved in separating Jane from Mr. Bingley. Her meeting with Mr. Bingley's sisters had not imparted to her a favourable impression of either sister. That they would decry the possible union for reasons of Jane's lack of connections, dowry and station, she could easily believe; but that Mr. Darcy would base his objections primarily on Jane's perceived lack of affection, she could not readily accept until she considered her niece's extreme reserve. After a few minutes she asked Elizabeth, "You have had more time to think on this. What is your opinion of his actions?"

"I admit it was difficult at first to be fair on this matter; however, I have come to believe that he was honest in his intent to protect his friend. I once called his actions 'officious interference' but was forced to realize that I would have done the same if our positions were reversed. His purpose was well-meant but he made a mistake – unfortunately one based on his arrogant belief in his power of discernment. If he had limited himself to stating that he could perceive no affection, I suspect that Jane would be engaged to – and possibly married to – Mr. Bingley as we speak. But his arrogance led him to assume the absence of any indications of a revealed preference was the same as its absence. Perhaps I am too harsh but this is the fault I find – and so I have told him."

Mrs. Gardiner was slowly nodding her head as Elizabeth spoke, "I cannot disagree with you too much on this Lizzy but, given what he said about the impropriety of your mother and sisters, is it not possible that those concerns influenced his opinion? From what you have related of the Netherfield Ball, your mother's declaration of the engagement between Jane and Mr. Bingley must have led Mr. Darcy to believe that Jane – who has the appearance of a most gentle and pliable young woman – would be induced to accept an offer should it be made, regardless of her affections? Is that not a reasonable explanation also? And one that might excuse Mr. Darcy of undue arrogance?"

Elizabeth reluctantly agreed, "It is possible, I suppose. I admit I still tend to look for fault with Mr. Darcy; to question his motives – perhaps more than I should or more than is reasonable."

"Now, Elizabeth, perhaps we should discuss Mr. Darcy's visit yesterday. As I have already confessed, I was greatly impressed by his manner and civility. I understand that he did not behave so in Hertfordshire. Is it possible that your words have already induced him to change his behaviour?"

Elizabeth could only shake her head in puzzlement, "I do not understand it at all, aunt. He quite has me in a state of confusion."

Mrs. Gardiner then asked Elizabeth to reveal her discussion with Mr. Darcy the previous afternoon which was quickly related. Both ladies sat in silence for several minutes considering all that had been revealed until finally Mrs. Gardiner asked, "Lizzy, how do you feel about Mr. Darcy now?"

Elizabeth tried to smile with minimal success before crying, "I am all confusion. Little more than a week ago I quite detested the man and now I scarce know what to think of him. Everything I believed of him has been overset. I am all confusion, self-doubts, frustration – such a conflict – I have had so little time to order my thoughts!"

Mrs. Gardiner smiled, "It is not to be wondered at if you are confused, Lizzy. The circumstances are quite peculiar indeed. But perhaps there is a means of creating some order out of that confusion." Seeing Elizabeth's hopeful gaze, she leaned over and patted her hand, saying, "Your uncle has frequently to deal with problems that are quite complex. One lesson he learned, quite young he says, is to simplify – to get down to the basic problem."

"And the basic problem in this case is?"

"That is quite ridiculously simple, my dear." And fixing her niece with a firm look Mrs. Gardiner asked, "If you had met Mr. Darcy for the first time while you were visiting your friend, would you accept his offer of courtship?"

Elizabeth took but a few seconds to respond, "Of course!"

"There is no 'of course' about it, Lizzy. Why would you do so?"

"He is a reputable man, honourable, can support a family. If his manners are a little wanting, he apparently can please when comfortable with his company. And he is quite handsome," Elizabeth grinned at her aunt saying, "Which a young man should be if he is able." A pensive look returned to her face as she said, "And, if I must be honest, had I met him for the first time then, I would have recognized his attentions for what they were and made an effort to get to know him rather than ignoring him as I actually did. A courtship would allow me to know him better."

"So your answer tomorrow will be?"

"I will agree to a courtship, however…."

"However?"

"Oh, I was just considering that Jane and I are to leave for Longbourn tomorrow. I dread having to be courted publicly under Mama's gaze. She will be proclaiming a marriage within a week. Should I decide against him, I will have to come to live with you to escape her censure and lamentations." The cheeky grin she gave her aunt drew a commiserating smile from that lady who understood very well how Elizabeth's mother would react to a gentleman worth ten thousand a year courting one of her daughters. After a pause of some moments while they both considered the probable implications of a courtship being carried out under the eyes of a mother more than prepared to advance the match by whatever means available, if not necessarily suitable, Mrs. Gardiner made a suggestion.

"Lizzy, I know you wish to return to Longbourn but would you be agreeable to remaining with us for a fortnight or so after Jane leaves. Mr. Darcy could court you here." She thought for a few moments, "He would have to get your father's consent, of course. Perhaps he could ride to Longbourn the following day and see your father then."

The look of delight that crossed Elizabeth's countenance told her aunt all she needed to know and her expressions of gratitude were heartfelt, "Oh! That would be perfect. I am sure that a fortnight or so will permit me to determine if I wish the courtship to proceed further." She grew thoughtful once more before continuing, "I believe we must have some of the courtship at Longbourn. I must learn if he can accept - tolerate - my family and my neighbours. I cannot separate myself from them nor would I wish to do so."

Her aunt warned, "Your mother's scheming will take place, you know."

"True, true. But I shall, I believe, be more secure in my opinion by then. If I think it unlikely I would accept an offer of marriage, I would end the courtship before I returned to Longbourn."

Elizabeth's impatience to acquaint Jane with what had happened could no longer be overcome; and at length resolving to suppress every particular in which her sister was concerned, and preparing her to be surprised, she related to her that evening, as they prepared for sleep, the chief of the scenes between Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam and herself.

She spoke of the Colonel's revelations concerning George Wickham which by now she could recall with little effort. What a stroke was this for poor Jane! Who would willingly have gone through the world without believing that so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind, as was here collected in one individual. Nor was Darcy's vindication, though grateful to her feelings, capable of consoling her for such a discovery. Most earnestly did she labour to prove the probability of error, and seek to clear one without involving the other.

"This will not do," said Elizabeth. "As I said to Charlotte not many days past, you never will be able to make both of them good for anything. Take your choice, but you must be satisfied with only one. There is but such a quantity of merit between them; just enough to make one good sort of man; and of late it has been shifting about pretty much. For my part, I am inclined to believe it all Mr. Darcy's, but you shall do as you choose."

It was some time, however, before a smile could be extorted from Jane.

"I do not know when I have been more shocked," said she. "Wickham so very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr. Darcy! Dear Lizzy, only consider what he must have suffered at his hands and being acquainted with the knowledge of your ill opinion too! And having to relate such a thing of his sister! It is really too distressing. I am sure you must feel it so."

"Oh no! My regret and compassion are all done away by seeing you so full of both. I know you will do him such ample justice, that I am growing every moment more unconcerned and indifferent. Your profusion makes me easy; and if you lament over him much longer, my heart will be as light as a feather."

"Poor Wickham; there is such an expression of goodness in his countenance! Such an openness and gentleness in his manner."

"There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it."

"I never thought Mr. Darcy so deficient in the appearance of it as you used to do."

"And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a dislike to him, without any reason. It is such a spur to one's genius, such an opening for wit to have a dislike of that kind. One may be continually abusive without saying anything just; but one cannot be always laughing at a man without now and then stumbling on something witty."

"Lizzy when you first listened to Colonel Fitzwilliam, I am sure you could not treat the matter as you do now."

"Indeed I could not. I was uncomfortable enough. I was very uncomfortable, I may say unhappy. And with no one to speak to of what I felt, no Jane to comfort me and say that I had not been so very weak and vain and nonsensical as I knew I had! Oh! How I wanted you!"

"How unfortunate that you should have used such very strong expressions in speaking of Wickham to Colonel Fitzwilliam and to Mr. Darcy at the Netherfield Ball, for now they do appear wholly undeserved."

"Certainly! But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness is a most natural consequence of the prejudices I had been encouraging. On one point, I must act. I have been authorized by Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam to make known Mr. Wickham's character except insofar as it relates to Miss Darcy. I have written our father and informed him of Mr. Wickham's habits in respect of incurring debts and importuning young women. Colonel Fitzwilliam is, I understand, to do likewise with Colonel Forster. I intend, when such news has been made public, to endeavour to undeceive people as to the rest of his conduct. I may not be believed, since the general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is so violent, that it would be the death of half the good people in Meryton to attempt to place him in an amiable light. I may not be equal to it but I feel I must do what I can. While Wickham will soon be gone; and therefore it will not signify to anybody here what he really is, Mr. Darcy may return. I would not have his character besmirched by my connivance."

"Mr. Darcy may return?"

Elizabeth's blushes did not prevent her from replying, "As I informed our aunt, Mr. Darcy has asked to court me. I am to give him his answer tomorrow when he calls."

Jane interrupted, surprise quite evident in her voice and manner, "Do you expect to accept his offer then, Lizzy? I thought you quite detested the man?"

"Dearest Jane, in such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable. I do not love the man, I do not, as yet, even like him very much but he is a much better man than I have previously given him credit to be and he has asked me for the chance to improve my opinion of him. I would be a very silly girl indeed to refuse such an opportunity."

Elizabeth regarded her sister carefully before continuing, "Our aunt has suggested that I remain here with them and allow the first few weeks of the courtship to take place here in London and away from Longbourn and our mother. You know her too well. She will have it about that I am to marry him as soon as she learns the news of a courtship. Should I refuse him, or even end the courtship, her lamentations about Mr. Collins will pale in comparison to those she then expresses. My days will be a misery. No! I must start here in London and, if I believe that I could accept an offer of marriage, only then will I return to Longbourn." She paused, "I must ask for your secrecy on this. I have a letter which I will ask you to give papa when you return tomorrow. It simply states that our aunt has asked me to remain with her for a few extra days to help with the children. I would ask that you say nothing more to anyone. This courtship will be conducted in secret here in London although I expect that Mr. Darcy will wish to speak with our father for his consent. It will not be a secret from him."

That Jane would be reluctant to conceal the courtship from their mother, Elizabeth knew, but since it was an act of concealment rather than an actual falsehood, she was sure that Jane could soothe her conscience, particularly since their father would know of it.

The tumult of Elizabeth's mind was allayed by this conversation. She had got rid of two of the secrets which had weighed on her, and was certain of a willing listener in Jane, whenever she might wish to talk again of them. But there was still something lurking unmentioned, of which prudence forbad the disclosure. She dared not relate Mr. Darcy's revelations, nor explain to her sister how sincerely she had been valued by his friend. Here was knowledge in which no one could partake; and she was sensible that nothing less than a perfect understanding between the parties could justify her in throwing off this last encumbrance of mystery. "And then," said she, "if that very improbable event should ever take place, I shall merely be able to tell what Bingley may tell in a much more agreeable manner himself. The liberty of communication cannot be mine till it has lost all its value!"

She was now somewhat at leisure to observe the real state of her sister's spirits. Jane was not happy. She still cherished a very tender affection for Bingley. Having never even fancied herself in love before, her regard had all the warmth of first attachment, and, from her age and disposition, greater steadiness than first attachments often boast; and so fervently did she value his remembrance, and prefer him to every other man, that all her good sense, and all her attention to the feelings of her friends, were requisite to check the indulgence of those regrets which must have been injurious to her own health and their tranquility.


	9. Chapter 9

**A Decision Rendered**

The next day arrived, rather cold, blustery and rainy which prevented any thoughts of venturing out of doors for a walk. Jane and Maria's departure was effected after breakfast, the weather not proving to be a deterrent to travelling by coach. Jane was dispatched with strict orders from her sister to write as to how their father had acted in respect of Mr. Wickham. Elizabeth had no expectation of her father writing to her particularly, since he expected her to accompany Jane. With their departure, Elizabeth was thrown upon her own resources and given that she had arrived at a decision, Elizabeth was eager to inform Mr. Darcy of it; the forced inactivity – physical at least – was trying her patience. Finally her aunt, exasperated undoubtedly by her niece's restlessness, banished her to Mr. Gardiner's study where she would, as Mrs. Gardiner put it, 'be in nobody's way there'. Fortunately for Mr. Gardiner, he had already left for his warehouse and the intrusion of a restless, fidgety niece into his private room could not be of any concern. Why she was so restless, Elizabeth could hardly answer, but there it was, and she found herself forced to feign an interest in a novel, although she finished barely two chapters in the several hours she spent reading.

At last, early in the afternoon, she took up a station with her aunt in the sitting room to await Mr. Darcy. A scant quarter hour later, the sound of a carriage stopping in front of the house was heard and, shortly thereafter, Mr. Darcy was shown into the room. It took but a single look to see that the gentleman was decidedly uncomfortable - his efforts at masking his uncertainty quite fruitless – and, while he attempted to converse easily with both Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth, his gaze was regularly drawn to Elizabeth as though he wished to read her answer upon her countenance. Elizabeth made such efforts as she could to set him at ease and reduce his discomfort but it was clear that such efforts were meeting with small success.

Mrs. Gardiner at last rose from her chair, saying, "I believe you both desire a private conversation. I will be in the room across the hall and the door to this room will be left open. Your privacy here is assured as all my servants have been instructed to remain downstairs."

Upon Mrs. Gardiner leaving the room, Elizabeth could not resist teasing Darcy, "You look overset, Mr. Darcy. Surely you are not uncertain of my answer?"

The half smile that she wore and her gentle tease – he believed he knew her well enough to know she would not tease him so if she meant to refuse him – drew a bark of laughter from him; she could see his body and features visibly relax, before he replied, "Miss Bennet, I was never more uncertain about anything when I entered this room. I admit to feeling more hopeful now."

"And so you may be – quite hopeful, in fact. I have decided to accept your offer of a courtship." She could not but be pleased by the happiness she could read on his countenance – it was not that he wore a broad smile but his eyes seemed to warm as he gazed at her. She held up a hand to restrain him, as he appeared about to take her hands in his own, saying, "There are some conditions I must attach to my acceptance. I do not think them particularly onerous but you must decide for yourself."

"And these conditions are?" A trace of uncertainty had returned as he awaited her answer.

"I am sure you are aware that my cousin, Mr. Collins, made me an offer of marriage last November – your aunt must have spoken of it to you, I am sure – and not too kindly, I would hazard. I refused the offer, against my mother's wishes, but was supported in it by my father. Nonetheless, my mother spoke warmly of my disregarding her wishes for months afterwards." She looked calmly at Darcy, "I wish to keep our courtship private for the first fortnight or so; and my aunt has kindly offered to host me here for that time."

Darcy considered her suggestion, "By private, I assume that your mother would not be informed. I do feel bound by honour to obtain your father's consent. Will he be in agreement with this condition?"

"I believe so. I realized that you would need his consent and thought to have you take a letter from me for him. I sent a note to him with Jane, who returned to Longbourn this morning, as to why I did not return - as well saying my aunt wished for my help with the children. If my conditions are acceptable to you, I will send another outlining the reason why I have accepted the offer. It will, I believe, be necessary since my feelings towards you were quite negative when last I spoke with my father."

Darcy nodded before asking another question, "Why only a fortnight here? Do you expect to arrive at a decision so soon?"

Elizabeth rose from her seat and began to pace the room for several minutes before turning to face him, "I felt that a fortnight would allow us both to reach a conclusion and decide whether we want the courtship to proceed further." Her gaze now commanded his attention, "I believe…I know that my station in life is much inferior to yours. I have come to believe that you have resolved your uncertainties about the difference, but I admit to a concern that….further reflection may lead you to regret an attachment. That you may lose respect for me is something I could not bear. Should you feel this likely, I would hope for you to withdraw from the courtship."

Darcy was speechless for almost a minute before finally saying, "I had quite resolved all those matters while I was at Rosings and my sojourn here in Town has quite fixed the matter in my mind. I have never sought to be much in society and would much prefer to spend my life at Pemberley – a few weeks in London would satisfy my cravings for its pleasures. And with respect to my friends, well…to put it simply, if a friend cannot accept my wife, he is cannot be counted amongst my friends. I fear you cannot hope to escape this way, Miss Bennet." His grin was surprisingly cheerful, "And what is the decision you face?"

"I have said I do not know you. If we continue the courtship at Longbourn, I will have come to view a possible offer of marriage more favourably; however," and her smile disappeared, "I expect to bring to Longbourn the Mr. Darcy that I have come to appreciate lately." Then her grin returned, "And you shall have the pleasure of my mother's solicitous behaviour. She will, I assure you, be most favourably impressed by your ten thousand a year and quite, quite attentive."

Darcy nodded, "I consent to these conditions quite readily, Miss Bennet. Since this courtship is to be conducted under your uncle's protection, I believe I should speak to him as soon as may be."

Mrs. Gardiner was applied to and, after extending her congratulations to them both, invited Mr. Darcy to dine with them that evening, an invitation which he was quick to accept and, indeed, requested permission to include his sister so that he might introduce her to Elizabeth. The surprise of such an application was great indeed; it was too great for her to know in what manner she acceded to it. She immediately felt that whatever desire Miss Darcy felt of being acquainted with her must be the work of her brother; and without looking further into the matter, decided it was satisfactory. Elizabeth was not altogether comfortable – that was impossible; but she was flattered and pleased. His wish of introducing his sister to her was a compliment of the highest kind. It also, she realized as she considered it further after his departure, improved, if only slightly, her opinion of Mr. Darcy himself.

Mr. Darcy remained but a short while longer, claiming the need to return home to apprise his sister of their engagement to dine. Elizabeth saw him to the door and could not help but be pleased by his courteous manner as he bowed over her hand when he took his leave. She rather thought she might enjoy this courtship, although she told herself firmly that she had disliked the gentleman in the past – a circumstance based on his behaviour then – and, if she could not say she liked him now, at least she did not dislike him so severely as in the past. Pushing such thoughts aside, she removed herself to her room to write her father who believed her quite opposed to Mr. Darcy - to hold him in serious dislike. To explain the dramatic shift in her feelings was not something to be undertaken easily. Fortunately, her deliberations with her aunt had forced her to review her acquaintance with Mr. Darcy and that experience made the task of communicating the change less onerous. She was honest with her father, she did not profess an attachment to her suitor but focused on identifying those areas from which the misunderstandings arose – including his role in separating her sister and Mr. Bingley. It took four full sheets of paper to express her thoughts and she could only hope her father would credit her reasons for accepting the courtship.

Mr. Gardiner had, when apprised that Mr. Darcy and his sister were to be guests for dinner, arrived home somewhat earlier than was his wont in order to greet them; of particular interest, of course, was the gentleman who was to court his favourite niece. About an hour before dinner, Miss Darcy and her brother appeared, and this formidable introduction took place. With astonishment did Elizabeth see that her new acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as herself. From Mr. Wickham she had heard that Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud; but the observation of but a very few minutes convinced her that she was only exceedingly shy. She found it difficult to obtain even a word from her beyond a monosyllable and cast a fulminating thought in Mr. Wickham's direction.

Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth; and, though little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, and her appearance womanly and graceful. She was less handsome than her brother, but there was sense and good humour in her face, and her manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle. Elizabeth, who had expected to find in her as acute and unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, was much relieved by discerning such different feelings.

Very shortly after they were introduced, Elizabeth had led Miss Darcy to a settee where they ensconced themselves comfortably and she made every effort to engage her conversation. It proved a somewhat difficult task as Miss Darcy's shyness limited her to the very briefest of answers. It was not until the subject touched on music and her studies that she so far lost her reserve as to speak entire sentences complete and, within the half hour, had begun to describe her favourite places at her home – Pemberley. As Miss Darcy's comfort with Elizabeth increased, she allowed herself the liberty of asking Elizabeth about her home and its environs; and, by the time they were called to dinner, she was speaking with slightly more ease of her time at school and the girls she had met there. With some embarrassment, she admitted that she had become friendly with only two girls with whom she maintained an acquaintance via correspondence since they were separated by such distance as to preclude an easy exchange of visits. She freely admitted that she found herself reluctant to enter into an acquaintance with some young women, who were desirous of doing so, because it had become quickly obvious that the presence of her brother was the chief attraction for them. Elizabeth found herself expressing sympathy with her saying, "It seems that there is more than just one Miss Bingley."

Miss Darcy looked embarrassed as she said, "Miss Bingley is very fulsome with her praise. I sometimes think she values my accomplishments too highly."

"I dare say she does. I believe she considers you one of the most accomplished ladies of her acquaintance." Elizabeth's smile was meant to reassure Miss Darcy but her embarrassment deepened and she whispered, "I suspect I would be less valued if my brother was less worthy."

Elizabeth patted her hand and said, "Perhaps in the mind of Miss Bingley, but in no else's I am sure. Your brother speaks very highly of you and I trust his opinion. I should very much like to hear you play."

"My brother says that nothing gave him greater pleasure than to listen to you sing and play."

Elizabeth smiled and teased, "I fear he praises me too highly, undoubtedly for some mischievous purpose of his own."

Miss Darcy's concern was immediate, "Oh no. My brother never exaggerates, although I believe he is too kind to me."

"A perfect older brother then! I could wish I had a brother but have only four sisters."

Elizabeth could not miss the wistfulness in Miss Darcy's expression as she replied, "I could wish that I had a sister."

"Well, when your brother marries, he shall provide you with one."

Miss Darcy looked down at her hands and murmured, "I hope that I do not have to wait too long."

Elizabeth could think of no response to this statement and purposefully changed the subject and soon had engaged Miss Darcy in a discussion of their favourite composers – a subject which they were to carry into the dinner itself.

It was not often that Elizabeth could turn her eyes on Mr. Darcy himself who was being ably entertained by her aunt and uncle; but, whenever she did catch a glimpse, she saw an expression of general complaisance; and, in all that he said, she heard an accent so far removed from hauteur or disdain of his companions, as to convince her that the improvement of manners which she had so lately witnessed, however temporary its existence might prove, had at least outlived one day. When she saw him thus, seeking the acquaintance and courting the good opinion of people, with whom any intercourse a few months ago would have been a disgrace; when she saw him thus civil, not only to herself, but to the very relations whom he had openly disdained, and recollected his past behaviour in Hertfordshire, the difference, the change was so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could hardly restrain her astonishment from being visible. Never, even in the company of his dear friends at Netherfield, or his dignified relations at Rosings, had she seen him so desirous to please, so free from self-consequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no importance could result from the success of his endeavours, and when even the acquaintance of those to whom his attentions were addressed, were it known, would draw down the ridicule and censure of the ladies both of Netherfield and Rosings. It was consoling that he should know she had some relations for whom there was no need to blush. She listened most attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every expression, every sentence of her aunt and uncle, which marked their intelligence, their taste, or their good manners.

While the Gardiners usually dined in company with their oldest children – even when their nieces were visiting – tonight they had chosen to have them eat in the nursery and thus the company around the dinner table was a congenial blend of intelligence, good humour and amiability such as to produce lively and interesting conversation. Miss Darcy found herself sitting at Mrs. Gardiner's right hand with Elizabeth beside her while Mr. Darcy sat to Mrs. Gardiner's left. That lady was able to revisit with Mr. Darcy the subject of Lambton and her upbringing there and if, between them, they were unable to exhaust their descriptions of Derbyshire and environs of Pemberley, it was not from want of trying. Their discussion was so animated as to draw Miss Darcy into it and led her to ask whether Mrs. Gardiner had met either of her parents. That lady was able to satisfy her only slightly, saying that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy had come but rarely to Lambton but that her father had occasion to meet them both as he was the rector for the Lambton parish. She did recall visiting Pemberley once, as a young girl – the occasion being Miss Darcy's christening. She thought she remembered seeing Miss Darcy's brother on that occasion but would not have recognized him now since he had grown so tall – leaning over to Miss Darcy, she whispered, "and handsome." Whether Mr. Darcy heard that comment, Elizabeth could not be sure, although his faint blush suggested he had.

The dinner was one of the most pleasant that Elizabeth could recollect and she was beginning to seriously question the basis for her former dislike of Mr. Darcy. When they rose from the table, Mr. Gardiner invited Darcy into his study for a glass of port and, Elizabeth had no doubt, a discussion of the possible rules of propriety that would govern their courtship. Elizabeth knew that her aunt and uncle would not be as blatant as her mother in allowing a courting couple unchaperoned privacy, although they would ensure the couple opportunities to converse privately.

While they waited for the gentlemen to return, Elizabeth and Miss Darcy continued their easy conversation, ably assisted by Mrs. Gardiner; and, finally, after much persuasion, Miss Darcy was encouraged to play a few pieces with Elizabeth turning the pages for her. She was half finished her second piece when Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Darcy returned and they greeted her efforts with vigorous applause. Induced to play a third selection, she agreed only on condition that Elizabeth also perform – and her performance was greeted with equal enthusiasm which, even if prompted by the regard of one of her listeners, was no less appreciated by her.

A few minutes before the Darcys left, Darcy indicated his plans to ride to Longbourn in the morning to speak with Mr. Bennet and his expectations that he would return by the middle of the afternoon. An invitation to tea for that afternoon was extended by Miss Darcy to Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner which those ladies were pleased to accept. Darcy also expressed a desire to meet with the Gardiners and Elizabeth to discuss his meeting with Mr. Bennet and suggested that Mr. Gardiner join them at his home for dinner. The Gardiners being amenable to these arrangements, the Darcys took their leave, albeit not before Elizabeth had given Darcy a letter to deliver to her father when they met.

The observations of her aunt and uncle began shortly after the Darcys left; and each of them pronounced him to be infinitely superior to anything they had expected. "He is perfectly well-behaved, polite and unassuming," said her uncle.

"There is something a little stately in him, to be sure," replied her aunt; "but it is confined to his air, and is not unbecoming. I can now say that though some people may call him proud, I have seen nothing of it."

"I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to us. It was more than civil – it was attentive – although there is obviously a reason for such behaviour. Nonetheless, I find it hard to believe he was so disagreeable when in Hertfordshire. On the contrary, there is something of dignity in his countenance that would not give one an unfavourable idea of his heart."

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled with delight at Elizabeth's blushes and she found it advisable to remove to her bedroom to consider all that had happened that evening.


	10. Chapter 10

**Mr. Bennet has a Visitor**

The following day saw the Darcy carriage arrive at the Gardiner residence shortly after two in the afternoon to transport Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth to the Darcy house. It was a tall, four stories building on Curzon Street in the more exclusive part of London, considerably larger than the Gardiner home and Elizabeth was quick to note its easy access to Hyde Park – a matter of a few minutes' walk to enter. Greeted by the butler, they were quickly led to join Miss Darcy in her private sitting room. Elizabeth saw with admiration that the furniture was suitable to the fortune of the proprietor and that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly fine, with less of splendour and more real elegance than the furniture of Rosings. "And of this place," thought she, "I might be mistress! With these rooms I might be familiar! I may rejoice in them as my own and welcome to them as visitors my aunt and uncle."

Before these thoughts could overwhelm her, they were ushered into the room where Miss Darcy was sitting with a lady with whom she lived in London. Georgiana's reception of them was very civil; but attended with all that embarrassment which, though proceeding from shyness and the fear of doing wrong, would easily give to those who felt themselves inferior the belief of her being proud and reserved. Mrs. Gardiner and her niece, however, did her justice, and pitied her.

On their being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must always be, succeeded for a few moments. It was first broken by Mrs. Annesley, a genteel, agreeable looking woman, whose endeavour to introduce some kind of discourse proved her to be truly well bred and between her and Mrs. Gardiner, with occasional help from Elizabeth, the conversation was carried on. Miss Darcy looked as if she wished for courage enough to join in it; and sometimes did venture a short sentence, when there was least danger of its being heard. Gradually the ease with which she had conversed while visiting the Gardiners returned and she was able to claim a larger share of the conversation.

Elizabeth expected every moment that Mr. Darcy would enter the room. Whether she wished or feared, she could scarcely determine, although she knew it unlikely he would have returned already from Longbourn. The next variation which their visit afforded was produced by the entrance of servants with cold meat, cake, and a variety of all the finest fruits in season; but this did not take place till after many a significant look and smile from Mrs. Annesley had been given to Miss Darcy, to remind her of her post. There was now employment for the whole party; for though they could not all talk, they could all eat; and the beautiful pyramids of nectarines and other fruit soon collected them round the table.

Upon satisfying their hunger, a tour of the house was offered and immediately accepted and, if Elizabeth could remember few details of most of the rooms they visited, she saw nothing to contradict her initial impression as to the furniture and furnishings. The rooms were large and well proportioned and the furniture and furnishings appropriate to each. Of two rooms she took particular pleasure; Mr. Darcy's study was suitably furnished but her eye was caught first by the quantity of bookshelves that lined the room but more impressive were several pictures which portrayed the Darcy manor – Pemberley, she was informed – from different prospects. Having seen them all, she could not choose a favourite although she kept returning to one that seemed to have been painted from a height overlooking the front of the house. Miss Darcy smiled at such behaviour saying that the picture portrayed the view that visitors encountered when they first saw Pemberley. That it was a favourite of hers and her brother she admitted, stating that her brother had it commissioned so as to remind him of their home when he was forced to come to London.

"So your brother prefers the country to London, then?" asked Elizabeth.

"Oh yes. We both feel more comfortable, more at home there. I doubt my brother would stay much in London at all." Elizabeth had little time to consider such thoughts before Miss Darcy led her into the library; several times larger than her father's study, it contained such a number of books that Elizabeth found herself drifting down one side of the room, her fingers grazing the spines of the books contained on the shelves. A pair of deep chairs was comfortably placed in front of the fireplace and others situated by windows which she found overlooked the grounds of the house. The prospect from each window was most appealing and Elizabeth could, with very little trouble, imagine herself comfortably ensconced in a chair with a book to read and a view to admire. She was only recalled to her company by her aunt's teasing comment, "I fear we will not be able to remove Lizzy from this room."

Miss Darcy stepped up beside Elizabeth as she gazed out the window at the grounds below, "It is delightful in the spring, is it not. We are not here too often at this time of the year."

At Elizabeth's questioning glance, Miss Darcy continued, "Oh, I meant that usually my brother wishes to return to Pemberley after visiting my aunt. While the need to oversee the work of the estate is partially responsible, I find that Pemberley is too beautiful in the spring to want to be anywhere else. My brother, I believe, is of a like mind."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement, "I can well believe that. After a long winter, I relish being able to venture out on the paths around my home. I love to visit my aunt and uncle here in town," and she gave a grateful smile to Mrs. Gardiner, "but I admit to feeling most at home in the country."

Conversation continued in an amiable fashion as they returned to Miss Darcy's sitting room where a tea service with biscuits and cakes was awaiting them. The two ladies remained for another hour cheerfully talking, with Mrs. Gardiner engaging Miss Darcy's interest by speaking of the years she lived in Lambton, and Elizabeth of her life with four sisters. As they conversed, Miss Darcy was increasingly able to contribute to the conversation with memories of Pemberley and her activities there. Finally, Mrs. Gardiner felt that she and Elizabeth must return home to refresh themselves and prepare to dine with the Darcys that evening. That she also wished to spend some time with her children, she freely admitted; and was as delighted and proud as a mother can be when Miss Darcy expressed an interest in meeting them. A visit several days hence to Gracechurch Street was planned, with Elizabeth and Miss Darcy to accompany the children and their nurse to the nearby park. Elizabeth hoped that Mr. Darcy would accompany them as well and tentatively suggested as much to Miss Darcy who smiled and said she thought it quite likely.

When the Gardiners and Elizabeth returned later that evening to dine with Mr. and Miss Darcy, that gentleman welcomed them in the drawing room saying, "Georgiana is still upstairs. I asked her to give us some time before dining to discuss my meeting with Elizabeth's father. I hope that is agreeable to you."

Upon finding that this was agreeable to all, he drew Elizabeth to sit in a chair next to his own while the Gardiners settled on the settee facing them. Mr. Darcy's manner was relaxed and Elizabeth could discern no sign of concern or worry. His first words dispelled any such worries she held.

"The meeting went quite well although I admit that it was uncomfortable at the beginning. I spent over an hour with your father, Elizabeth, and we parted, I believe, on amicable terms. I have his consent for the courtship - but perhaps I am getting ahead of myself. I should tell you of our meeting as it unfolded." As Darcy spoke he gradually relaxed, leaned back in his armchair, his eyes half-closed while he relived his experience such that his words contained an immediacy that his listeners readily understood.

The day being fine, he had chosen to ride to Longbourn, expecting that doing so would allow him to return to London by mid-afternoon and perhaps encounter Elizabeth while she and her aunt were taking tea with Georgiana. His horse welcomed the exercise and they covered the twenty-four miles in excellent time. Arriving at Longbourn, he had assigned his horse to a groom who had quickly made an appearance and, after being welcomed into the house, handed his card to the housekeeper say, "Mr. Darcy to see Mr. Bennet."

She bustled off with his card and while he waited for her return, he could hear the voice of Mrs. Bennet talking in the parlour. One of the youngest daughters stuck her head out of the parlour door to see who the visitor was but quickly withdrew and informed Mrs. Bennet, since that lady was shortly approaching him to say, "Mr. Darcy, We are pleased to see you here." Her voice held equal measures of curiosity and coolness and Darcy remembered her obvious dislike of him and her lack of reluctance in expressing it. He bowed and said simply, "Thank you, Ma'am. I am here to see Mr. Bennet on business."

At this point the housekeeper returned and showed Darcy into Mr. Bennet's study where that gentleman rose from behind his desk to greet his visitor, making no effort to conceal his curiosity as to the purpose of the visit. After inviting him to sit and having received Elizabeth's letter, he supposed that Mr. Wickham was that purpose and said as much, "I suspect, Mr. Darcy, you are here on business related to Mr. Wickham."

"You are correct, sir. That is indeed one of my purposes in calling on you." Darcy hesitated, unsure whether discuss the courtship or Wickham first but, since Mr. Bennet had raised that issue, he thought it best to deal with it first. "I do not wish to impose on your goodwill, Mr. Bennet, but I am interested to know what steps you may have taken with respect to Wickham?"

Mr. Bennet sat in considerable surprise. He had just heard Mr. Darcy speak more in the few minutes that he had been in his room than he had expended in his company while staying at Netherfield. He answered slowly, "I received Lizzy's letter and have spoken to a number of tradesmen in Meryton – not all, mind you – but enough to learn that the gentleman probably owes about two hundred pounds to various people. I have spoken to Colonel Forster, who was dismayed at the fact and he has promised to take action although I know not what he can do beyond attach Mr. Wickham's income to pay the debts which surely exceed Mr. Wickham's income. As well, according to Colonel Forster, the gentleman has a number of debts of honour."

Darcy found himself nodding in agreement, "I suspected as much. What has been done about the debts in Meryton?"

"Nothing to my knowledge….and I will also say that while nothing was told me about dalliances with young women, several people were distinctly uncomfortable when I mentioned the topic. I fear the worst there."

"I can well believe it possible. I am sorry that Wickham has imposed himself on your community." He paused and then said, "I would ask a favour of you." Mr. Bennet nodded tentatively, although Darcy did not construe that as acceptance, "If you will endeavour to buy up Mr. Wickham's debts in Meryton, I will recover the cost from you."

Mr. Bennet sat upright in his chair and Darcy could see his features contained a look compounded of suspicion and amazement as he exclaimed, "Why should you do such a thing? What is your purpose?" He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. His tone was almost uncivil as he exclaimed, "I cannot understand why you are bothering yourself with our affairs. You made your opinion of us quite clear to everyone when you were staying with your friend. Your disdain was very clear indeed."

Darcy 's immediate angry reaction to being chastised in such a manner was quickly overtaken by the realization that Mr. Bennet was not unreasonable in his reaction and throttling his anger, sighed softly and hoped that Mr. Bennet could discern the sincerity as he explained, "Mr. Bennet, to my dismay your…charges are not unfounded. I can only look back on my manners and behaviour with regret. I have no possible excuse and will make none, but simply make my apology to you and hope that you grant me a chance to make amends."

Mr. Bennet considered him for several seconds before nodding reluctantly, "Granted. But that does not explain your involvement with Wickham. After all, whatever happens to tradesmen in Meryton will have no effect on you."

"Perhaps that is true, but I do feel a responsibility. Had I made Wickham's character known when I was here, none of this would likely have happened. My reluctance to lay my private affairs before the public, allowed Wickham to impose himself on all of you. I cannot claim to have been in ignorance of his probable behaviour."

"I believe you take too much upon yourself, Mr. Darcy although I do agree that revealing his character would have been a very honourable act." That Mr. Bennet was not altogether satisfied with the answer he had received, Darcy could perceive from his manner and gaze and, to forestall any further questions, he quickly asked, "So, we are in agreement then – you will acquire Wickham's debts from the tradesmen and I will recover your cost?"

"Indeed!" Mr. Bennet made as though to rise, obviously expecting that their business had been concluded but sat down again when Darcy showed no inclination to leave, saying, "Is there something else you wish to consult me on?"

Darcy felt unaccountably nervous – that Mr. Bennet had not thought well of him had been made clear and he could not know the degree to which his character had been rehabilitated – and was sure his uncertainty was reflected in his voice, "Actually sir, Mr. Wickham was only incidental to the main reason I called on you."

Mr. Bennet's eyebrows would have disappeared into his hairline, if it had not already receded to such a degree as to make it impossible, and his murmured, "Really?" was accompanied by a sharpening of his gaze. Darcy could see him rapidly considering and rejecting alternatives until he finally said, "I am all atwitter with anticipation, I assure you, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy could see no purpose to be anything but blunt, "I have asked your daughter Elizabeth if I could court her and she has agreed." The shock that flooded Mr. Bennet's face could not be disguised and he was speechless for almost a full minute before sputtering, "But…but she detests you and you…you considered her not handsome enough to tempt you!"

Darcy grimaced – pride and arrogance were exacting a fearsome price of him - but thankful that Elizabeth had anticipated her father's response and thought to send a letter to him, he withdrew that letter and slid it across the top of the desk, "Your daughter has sent this letter, sir. Perhaps you should read it before we talk further."

Mr. Bennet was still overset and the hands that opened the letter trembled slightly. Darcy sat silently as Elizabeth's father read her letter during which he occasionally glanced up at the man sitting across from him. Darcy could see a play of emotions on his countenance as he read it. He took more than five minutes to do so and then he deliberately re-read certain sections. When he was ready to speak, his first words were, "Have you read what Lizzy has written?" and, upon seeing the negative shake of Darcy's head, he asked, "Would you like to read it? Lizzy has given me permission to show it to you."

Darcy considered this only briefly, "Yes I would, but not now perhaps. I suspect our time could be more usefully spent by my answering any questions you might have." He paused for a few moments before saying, "You should know that my intentions towards your daughter are honourable and, if I can improve her opinion of me, to make her an offer of marriage. I have told her as much. I realize that I have much work to do to change her opinion, but I am resolved to do so."

"Well, if this letter is an indication, her opinion has improved quite markedly in the last several months."

"I admit I am relieved to hear that but there remains much to be done yet….Are you comfortable with the need for secrecy. I will state that this is by your daughter's wish - not mine - and was made at the suggestion of her aunt. I gather your daughter does not want to expose the matter to her mother until she believes it possible that she might accept an offer from me."

Mr. Bennet nodded ruefully, "Probably wise – her mother made her life a misery when she rejected Mr. Collins and I dread to consider how she will behave once she learns that you are courting Lizzy." He chuckled, "Lizzy is sparing you also, sir – my wife will be quite attentive when, or if, the courtship comes to Longbourn."

"When, sir! Not if!" Darcy's face had a small smile when he said this and Mr. Bennet's surprise was obvious which caused Darcy to say, "Something surprised you, Mr. Bennet?"

"Indeed, Mr. Darcy. I just discovered that you may have a sense of humour. There is hope for your suit, if you can show it to Lizzy."

Darcy shrugged, "That, sir, is very much a part of what I am hoping to do. Now are there any questions you have for me?"

"Several, in fact. How much does this courtship weigh in your involvement with Wickham?"

"I cannot deny that it is a consideration – a major one – and I suspect that if your daughter had not taken the initiative I might not have become involved but, once she did, I felt I had no choice but to act in a way that protects her and her family since I hope to make them mine as well."

"I see." Darcy could not read Mr. Bennet's face to discern his thoughts and that gentleman was absorbed in reflections for several moments before asking, "I must admit that I saw no sign of your interest in Lizzy when you were here in Hertfordshire and yet it must have started then – I recollect you danced with her at the Netherfield Ball."

"It was a most confusing time for me and when I look back on my behaviour, I am appalled by it. I began to develop an interest shortly after I met her…"

"But you insulted her at the Assembly! And I can assure you that Lizzy felt it most seriously although she made light of it at the time."

Darcy's face expressed his discomfort, "I know she heard what I said….you suggested as much earlier but I was distracted and did not realize it had such common currency…she has told others of those stupid comments? It is of little wonder that I am held in such dislike by her mother and others."

"I think an apology and grovelling may be in order, Mr. Darcy." That Mr. Bennet found the situation quite amusing could not be mistaken and Darcy was hopeful that Elizabeth would be equally forgiving.

Darcy attempted to explain that his interest had grown the more that he had come in contact with Elizabeth and, since nothing less than the truth would serve, explained his reservations about an attachment and his desire to avoid awakening any expectations on her part. If he touched but briefly on his concerns about the impropriety shown by certain members of the Bennet family and the family's poor connections, he did not fail to castigate his own prejudices whereby connections and station in society were of paramount concern. He freely admitted that it had taken him several months of separation from Elizabeth to understand how little importance should be attached to such consideration. But, as he admitted to Mr. Bennet, it was fortunate that he did not propose to Elizabeth while she was in Kent; he was sure to have insulted her deeply since he thought her to be expecting his offer and he had not considered that she would not accept it. Her response, he thought, would likely, given her dislike of him and the misunderstandings that existed, have been a most angry rejection.

The two gentlemen talked for a few more minutes before Mr. Bennet, after extending an invitation to stay for tea which was refused due to a need to return to London as quickly as possible, showed Darcy to the front door. They both could see Mrs. Bennet hovering and Darcy knew that she would besiege Mr. Bennet with questions as to why he had been closeted with him for over an hour. Since the matter of the courtship could not be disclosed, he did not envy Mr. Bennet the task of dissembling that lay ahead.

"… and the return journey was not at all tedious, since I carried the news that our courtship was approved and that measures to constrain Wickham were in place." Darcy's satisfaction was apparent to all his listeners.

Elizabeth looked at Darcy coolly as she said, "I will have you explain the insult at the Assembly, Mr. Darcy but not tonight." A slight smile crossed her lips as she said, "And did you read my letter to my father?"

"Not yet!"

"Yet?"

"He gave it to me to read and I propose to do so tonight." The upturn of the corner of his lips was the only sign that he recognized her discomposure at that thought. Further discussion was prevented by the announcement from the housekeeper, Mrs. Gray, that dinner was ready. Darcy escorted Elizabeth to the dining room where Georgiana awaited them. Apprised of the news that Mr. Bennet had consented to the courtship, her pleasure was obvious to them all and the hug in which she enfolded Elizabeth both warmed and surprised her - and Darcy as well since such demonstrative behaviour was uncharacteristic of his sister. The evening passed as such evenings usually do when the company is congenial and of a mind to enjoy themselves.


	11. Chapter 11

**A Courtship Begins**

Mr. Darcy was not to visit until after luncheon and her aunt had decreed that the children were not to disturb their 'Cousin Lizzy', which afforded Elizabeth both time and opportunity to reflect upon Mr. Darcy who, she realized, had been dominating her thoughts for some time; but, until her father's consent to the courtship had been given, she had not allowed herself to consider him as a possible husband. That much of her comprehension of Mr. Darcy's character had been based on mistakes and misunderstandings had been known to her for some weeks. Once the mortification inherent on recognizing those errors on her own part had passed, she had not allowed herself to wonder at her visceral dislike of Mr. Darcy that had taken hold of her for so many months. She was not sure why this feeling should exist and perhaps she had not been ready to look at the reasons behind it. She now realized that this could not continue and that she would have to address it, for once and for all.

She believed that the source was now more easily determined; She had been attracted to Mr. Darcy almost immediately - how could a woman not be attracted to such a handsome man – but he had insulted her before their acquaintance had even been established – dismissing her as unworthy, as 'not handsome enough to tempt him'. She recognized the blow to her vanity but had not thought herself so prejudiced as to not allow him to repair the damage – despite evidence, obvious to her now, that his every subsequent action of his had been an attempt to do so - at least in part. His conversations at Netherfield, his repeated attempts to dance with her – of which she had agreed only to the last and then spent chastising him – and his seeking her out to walk with her at Hunsford, were all obvious signs – not that she could see them then – of his interest and a repudiation of his slighting comment – even if that had not been his conscious purpose. She was resolved to put the incident behind her – although she thought it might prove useful should the opportunity arise, to tease Mr. Darcy about it. It was, however, a puzzle to her - why would a man, who otherwise behaved with civility, say something so abominably rude? She thought she was owed an explanation at the very least.

She searched her memory for other aspects of his dealings with her and only the inconsistency of his behaviour puzzled her. The same man who would ask her to dance three times also ignored her presence – beyond the coldest of civil greetings – when they shared the Netherfield library for a full half hour. His visits to the parsonage were equally puzzling. To sit for the duration of a visit without engaging in conversation beyond the barest and briefest of commonplace civilities was unfathomable to her. She had interpreted it as indicative of his disdain and disapproval. Was it something else entirely? Another question she would have to ask or puzzle out.

Then there was the matter of his arrogance and pride. His decision to involve himself in the business of her sister and his friend was surely proof of that arrogance. But what was arrogance but an insulting way of thinking or behaving that comes from believing that you are better, smarter, or more important than other people? Of this, she could find no shortage of proof. Mr. Darcy was clearly much more intelligent than most of those who surrounded him. His importance, she could not deny since his estate and birth would surely support such a feeling and, since he was assiduous in his management of that estate and other business, it was difficult to argue that he was not important. That he was somehow better than those with whom he was required to associate was more questionable. Certainly, society would deem him to be so and, if such a judgement were based solely on his personal merits, she would not fault it. That he felt no compunction on displaying that he viewed those around him as inferior, certainly contributed to her dislike; but, when she considered it further, she remembered that it was principally at the Assembly that the worst of his behaviour was displayed. In other engagements that he attended, he had been withdrawn and certainly not sociable but had been civil for the most part. Was there some reason that could explain his behaviour that one evening?

As she considered the matter further, she remembered his words when they were engaged in a heated discussion at Netherfield 'But pride – where there is a real superiority of mind – pride will always be under good regulation.' The pomposity of that statement – and the obvious circular reasoning since to claim such superiority was, in effect, an expression of pride – she found as amusing now, as then. Nonetheless, there was an element of truth contained therein, no matter how impolitic it was to have uttered it. Mr. Darcy did have a good regulation of mind - his judgement was sought and trusted by others – and he was obviously intelligent and thoughtful. He had cause to be confident in his judgement; however, he was fallible – as the matter of Jane and Bingley showed – and perhaps that error would cause him to be more cautious – and less arrogant – in the future. It was the way in which he conducted himself – his haughty manner – that offended and yet, he had greeted her aunt and uncle with perfect civility and every evidence of enjoying their company. Was he aware of how he was viewed? Or did his recent behaviour indicate an awareness of how uncivil he had been? She could not know for certain but the important question was whether this change - this improvement - was of a permanent nature.

If it was, then Mr. Darcy might make a most agreeable husband. As she considered this further, she remembered Charlotte's words - Mr. Darcy had, at the young age of two and twenty - come into the full management of a large estate upon the death of his father. The responsibilities inherent upon this must have been both a great burden and an equally great worry. She could not encompass all of the concerns that he faced but her knowledge of Longbourn and the responsibilities her father discharged - albeit poorly - were, she suspected, small in comparison to those faced by Mr. Darcy. As well, if she remembered correctly, that he had lost the service of a trusted steward scant months after the death of his father. He, perforce, was required to undertake responsibility for his estate without the guidance of a trusted steward. Surely a most demanding and worrisome undertaking; and yet, not five years later, his advice on running an estate was sought by Mr. Bingley who had considered acquiring an estate and also by his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. It could not but speak well for his abilities and dedication to such responsibilities.

When she remembered that, at the time he took on the management of his estate, he was also charged with the guardianship and more importantly, the raising of a ten year old sister - a task for which she was sure he thought himself totally unfitted and which, from her brief acquaintance with Miss Darcy, she believed him to have done particularly well - she could not but feel admiration. That he had been deceived by someone to whom he had entrusted Miss Darcy could not be held to his account - although, given his sense of responsibility, she thought he indeed would do so - and then betrayed by a childhood friend, so lost to a sense of decency as to importune a fifteen year old girl, the daughter of a man whom he professed to honour - could in no way diminished his success with Miss Darcy who, Elizabeth was sure, regarded her brother with affection and esteem. If he could act so carefully and thoughtfully with a sister, would he not also extend the same care, consideration and protection to a wife and children? This was no small concern for Elizabeth when she regarded her own family.

Had Elizabeth's opinions been all drawn from her own family, she could not have formed a very pleasing picture of conjugal felicity or domestic comfort. Her father, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance of good humour which youth and beauty generally give, had married a woman whose weak understanding and illiberal mind had, very early in their marriage, put an end to all real affection for her. Respect, esteem, and confidence had vanished forever; and all his views of domestic happiness were overthrown. But her father was not of a disposition to seek comfort, for the disappointment which his own imprudence had brought on, in any of those pleasures which too often console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice. He was fond of the country and of books; and from these tastes arose his principal enjoyments. To his wife he was very little otherwise indebted, than as her ignorance and folly had contributed to his amusement. This is not the sort of happiness which a man would in general wish to owe to his wife; but where other powers of entertainment are wanting, the true philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given.

Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to the impropriety of her father's behaviour as a husband. She had always seen it with pain; but respecting his abilities, and while grateful for his affectionate treatment of herself, she endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook, and to banish from her thoughts that continual breach of conjugal obligation and decorum which, in exposing his wife to the contempt of her own children, was so highly reprehensible. But she had never felt so strongly as now the disadvantages which must attend the children of so unsuitable a marriage, nor ever been so fully aware of the evils arising from so ill-judged a direction of talents; talents which, when rightly used, might at least have preserved the respectability of his daughters, even if incapable of enlarging the mind of his wife. She realized that she wanted more and better from the man she chose as her husband. She was not so foolish as to expect that her husband would be without fault; but she was determined that he would have a preponderance of those characteristics likely to ensure felicity and respect in marriage. That she and her husband should respect each the other; that he would provide her with a secure and loving environment in which to bear and raise their children, were all essential. She was determined not to settle for less.

These deliberations had consumed much of her morning and she did not repine when Darcy did not arrive at Gracechurch Street until shortly after luncheon. While Elizabeth had found herself regretting that he would not call after breakfast, her need for time to reflect on their courtship was important to her. Besides, he had indicated the evening before that business matters would occupy his time for several hours every day and that, if he could dispose of them early in the day, he would then be able to attend her for the remainder. She could not disagree with this decision and, when she considered it more carefully, she was pleased that he was so resolute in conducting his business affairs. When she compared his attitude to that of her father, who was somewhat indolent in such matters, she could not feel that the comparison flattered her father. Suddenly Elizabeth remembered the conversation between Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy when she stayed at Netherfield to nurse Jane.

"How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year – letters of business too! How odious I should think them!"

"It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours."

She realized that, even when visiting his friend, he had attended to business.

When Darcy was shown into the room, he found her sitting on the floor and playing with her cousins – two girls of six and eight years and two younger boys – in the sitting room. Slightly discomposed to be found in such a position – although it did not appear that Mr. Darcy was anything but charmed by the sight – she rose to curtsey and introduce her cousins. Since the afternoon was warm and sunny, Darcy and Elizabeth accompanied the children and their nurse on a visit to the neighbouring park.

Despite his desire to walk with Elizabeth on his arm, Darcy found himself escorting Miss Gardiner – named for her grandmother, Margaret – on one elbow and Miss Ellen Gardiner on the other. If he was dismayed at the prospect, he hid it well and was gravely solicitous to both girls as he escorted them. Elizabeth's hands had quickly been usurped by her youngest cousins who alternately skipped, hopped and chattered unceasingly as they attempted to hurry her to the park. Her apologetic look at him was met with a small smile and a quiet, "Do not concern yourself, Miss Bennet. I am not unfamiliar with young ladies." Turning to her cousins, "And I am particularly pleased to have made the acquaintance of these two fine young ladies." which produced a most charming blush on the part of Miss Gardiner and a soft chuckle from Elizabeth.

Once they reached the park, the two youngest Gardiners quickly dropped Elizabeth's hands and, pursued by their governess, scampered away accompanied willingly by Miss Ellen and somewhat reluctantly by Miss Gardiner who had been charged with assisting in controlling her brothers by both her mother and governess. Darcy was not slow to offer his arm to Elizabeth and she was not reluctant to accept it. They walked in a comfortable silence for a short distance before Darcy spoke, "I like your cousins. They are a lively bunch. Your Cousin Margaret reminds me a little of Georgiana - quiet and rather shy, perhaps."

"Margaret is very much like Jane and Georgiana. My aunt hopes that when she goes to school in a year or so, she will become more comfortable around people she does not know." Elizabeth was quiet for a few seconds and, as Mr. Darcy did not seem inclined to pursue that topic and indeed appeared to be in a contemplative mood himself, wondered if it would be an opportune time to start seeking answers to the questions that her morning's contemplations had raised but decided to explore the subject of his current thoughtfulness. Before she could do so, however, he spoke rather tentatively, "I believe, Miss Bennet, I owe you an apology - perhaps several since I suspect I committed a number of offences."

Elizabeth simply gazed at him, rather surprised that he would apologize for anything, before chastising herself for such an unkind reaction. 'When am I ever going to give this man his due?'

She realized that Darcy had noted her surprise and she hoped that he was not aware of the reason for it. "Yes, indeed we spoke of it last night when I was recounting my meeting with your father. I feel I must make my apology for those most insulting words that I spoke at the Assembly where we first met."

"Actually, Mr. Darcy, I do not believe we had met. If I remember correctly, you refused the acquaintance."

"Your memory is, unfortunately, all too good. It was perhaps the most uncivil and insulting thing I can remember doing. If I had known you had heard it - that anyone had heard it - I doubt I would have the fortitude to show my face there again."

"Are you apologizing for the action, Mr. Darcy - insulting me - or the consequences - it being heard? For if it is only for the consequences but you do not regret the action, an apology is meaningless."

"I am apologizing first for saying it and also for being so lost to propriety as to have said such in a public setting. That it was heard but adds to my shame." He paused, "I will make no excuses. It was a reflection of my mood and displeasure. I will not try to disclaim my actions by saying I did not see you. I did but what I did not see then, I began to see over the course of the following weeks. You were more than tolerable enough to tempt me, Miss Bennet, and, if truth is to be known, the reputed claims to beauty of your elder sister are nothing compared to your own."

Elizabeth could not help but blush in amazement at the compliment, knew not how to respond and unable to meet his eyes, gazed at the ground in front of her.

Darcy seeing her discomfort could not resist a tease, "You will have to get used to such compliments, Miss Bennet. You will surely receive many such from me in the future."

"I believe, sir, you are enjoying my embarrassment!"

"Indeed I am, and you are encouraging me to repeat it frequently. I do admire your countenance when you blush." His grin faded as he said in a less light-hearted voice, "I do hope you will forgive and forget my unkind words, Miss Bennet."

"I have spent a considerable amount of time lately considering them and other matters that lie between us. I can assure you that I had resolved this morning to put them behind me so your apology is accepted, sir. You are forgiven; however, ..." and her voice took on a teasing note, "...it would be very remiss of me to forget the offence and thus lose the opportunity to tease and plague you about it in the future which you can be assured I will do."

Darcy smiled, obviously not offended, as he replied, "I admit I like being teased by Miss Elizabeth Bennet and hope to give you many opportunities in the future."

"Nevertheless, Mr. Darcy, I admit to being puzzled as to why you would express yourself so ungraciously. Nothing I observed in your subsequent behaviour would support such behaviour."

Darcy walked in silence for several minutes before replying, "I cannot say for certain. I admit I had attended with some reluctance and to learn that my income and worth, as measured by such, was common fodder for discussion within minutes of my appearance, was…very distasteful. I admit it happens in London but more discretely, I assure you. I knew no one outside my own party and those to whom I was introduced did not recommend themselves to me. I am afraid Sir William and your mother did naught but exacerbate my discomfort." He paused and Elizabeth could see him scrutinizing her countenance. She hoped that he could detect no censure since she felt none. She could easily understand the reaction of a well-bred man to the improprieties of one and the foolishness of the other. She thought to reassure him saying, "I can well imagine your discomfort at both. I believe that I have become so used to both as to be somewhat oblivious to their behaviour."

Darcy obviously did not believe her entirely – she remembered that he had seen her embarrassment at her mother's behaviour on several occasions – but did not comment further as he continued with his explanation, "Well, as I said, I was not in a happy mood which was derived also from my concerns about my sister. While I was visiting Netherfield to assist Bingley, I was also separating myself from Georgiana – at Mrs. Annesley's recommendation – since my sister found my concern somewhat…smothering, I believe Mrs. Annesley said. In any event, I felt obliged to attend the assembly but did not wish to dance. I confess that if I had not attended, Miss Bingley would also have remained at Netherfield and that was a prospect I did not wish for. Unfortunately, Bingley, who is everything amiable and sociable, sometimes presses on me severely. That evening was one such time and I found his admonishments to be extremely bothersome. That I lashed out so unfairly, so unjustly as to insult you or any other young lady, shames me. I cannot…"

"Enough, Mr. Darcy. Your penance is complete. I have accepted your apology but I wish you to accept mine. I spoke most unkindly of you and to you afterwards and my behaviour was no less improper than yours. Let us leave this topic for now and think on those which should prove more enjoyable. What think you of Milton's Paradise Lost?"

The remainder of their walk was spent on less personal subjects and their preferences in literature were explored as were those books that had been read recently. If both realized a need to step back towards less emotional topics, the subjects and books discussed were of interest to both. That differences of opinion would exist was to be expected, although they found agreement on more than either expected. When disagreements were discovered, Elizabeth was pleased to discover that he was prepared to listen with respect as she defended her position. All too often it had been her experience that men – no matter how poorly educated or lacking in intelligence – were inclined to be dismissive of her opinion simply because of her sex. She had perceived Mr. Darcy's respect for her opinions when at Netherfield, but had been inclined to give him little credit for it. Now, she did and their discussions gained by the freedom and respect that he afforded her.

Unfortunately, but not unexpectedly, their discussion of books did not survive the impingement of several young persons clamouring for attention - albeit in a most genteel manner under the stern eye of their governess. Darcy and Elizabeth shortly found themselves engaged in entertaining, and being entertained by, her young cousins until they all returned to the Gardiner home. If Miss Margaret was content to walk beside Mr. Darcy in such a demure fashion as to raise a carefully hidden smile from Elizabeth, her sister was a veritable font of questions most of which were also directed at Mr. Darcy. Prominent amongst them were whether he was to marry Cousin Lizzy or why was he so tall? Darcy appeared to take it all in stride and, while his customary reserve was intact, Elizabeth thought it was slightly softened when addressing her cousins.

Darcy had been invited to dinner and the evening passed in an agreeable fashion. It also set a pattern for future dinners inasmuch as the two oldest children sat with them to eat and Darcy, encouraged by their manners, had no reservations about asking to include his sister in future, invitations which met with general approval.


	12. Chapter 12

**A Night at the Theatre**

Tonight's entertainment was not, in contradistinction to those meetings which had taken place previously, a casual affair. The invitation had been extended at dinner the same evening that she and Darcy had walked in the park with the young Gardiners. And, if Elizabeth had not understood the full implications of the invitation, her aunt, who was much more sophisticated in the ways of London society, had understood them quite well indeed and the moves necessarily associated with them. As she informed Elizabeth after Darcy had left, "Mr. Darcy is, with this invitation, being more explicit about his intentions, Lizzy."

At Elizabeth's obvious confusion, she sighed, "Mr. Darcy has invited us to see a play, at the most prominent theatre in London – Covent Gardens – and to view it from his private box. You…we will enter the theatre in public – you on his arm - for I am sure he means to conduct you personally to his box - and be assured that, at this time of year, the play will be well attended by those prominent in society. It is very much a public declaration of his interest." She let her words hang for almost a minute while her niece considered them before saying, "If you do not wish to…or if this is too soon, we should let Mr. Darcy know immediately."

Elizabeth had not believed the invitation to be more than an enjoyable entertainment and the play – A Midsummer's Night's Dream – was one she had enjoyed reading for years but never seen in a theatre. She was loath to lose this opportunity. To come under such scrutiny, to be of public interest, was not something she had contemplated and was not sure she wished for it to happen; and yet, if she were to accept Mr. Darcy's assurances at some point, this would be part of her life as Mrs. Darcy. Was she ready to take another step on that path? Or was her aunt reading too much into the situation? No, on this, she must defer to her aunt's greater understanding. If she took this step, she was effectively admitting that she desired the courtship to continue; that she was confident enough in her ability to handle the situations likely to arise and in her feelings to allow it to become public knowledge – albeit no one would know that an official courtship was taking place. But even an unofficial courtship would give rise to speculation and, if such were the case, it would be, she thought, much better that such speculation take place here in London than in Hertfordshire. A sudden thought occurred to her,

"Aunt, are we…am I likely to be introduced to Mr. Darcy's friends and acquaintances?"

"I think that goes without saying, Lizzy. I would anticipate many visitors to the box during intermissions and, possibly, even family members, if they are attending. This is a very public affair, Lizzy. Very public! And they will wish to meet of the woman Mr. Darcy is escorting."

Mrs. Gardiner allowed her niece a few more moments of contemplation before stating emphatically, "Well, if you are not to withdraw, we must ensure that you are suitably garbed. I know you have nothing truly appropriate with you, so we must visit my modiste immediately."

Elizabeth's assent had been absent-minded, as her thoughts were more engaged on contemplating the gradual change in her view of Mr. Darcy. Her inattentiveness carried her through the business of readying herself to visit the modiste and the trip to her shop. What did this invitation to such a public event say about Mr. Darcy's opinion of her? That his affections were engaged, she had come to accept. That he thought her beautiful, she still had trouble accepting - although his words had warmed her. Now it appeared he was prepared to present her to his society, to introduce her to his friends and, possibly, his family; and obviously to stand with her and support her while doing so – or was he testing her ability to act in an appropriate manner? She knew enough of his honour to believe that he would not wish to embarrass her or himself, and therefore he must believe her capable of handling such a situation, perhaps even enhancing it. And now she had to accept that the poverty of her connections and portion were of no significance to him and that his pride and arrogance, which had decried those connections in Hertfordshire as beneath his notice and attentions, had been put aside in her favour.

She was not allowed to linger on such thoughts when they entered the Modiste's shop as they were quickly shown into a private room. Mrs. Gardiner's modiste, while not favoured by the highest of society, was very much appreciated by those in trade with a recognition of style and fashion and the monies to afford her. As Mrs. Gardiner was wont to say, "Madame is not cheap but her gowns will compare with any modiste in town, and you are not paying for the privilege of saying they were designed by Madame _ or some other modiste favoured by the ton."

Within two hours both ladies had agreed on the materials and styles they wished to wear, measurements taken and gowns and fittings guaranteed for the following afternoon – at a premium over the cost, of course – Madame would have to incur additional cost to ensure the gowns were completed in two days time prior to attending the theatre. Satisfied with the gowns, Mrs. Gardiner led her niece through a procession of shops to acquire other necessities to complete their outfits. By the time they returned to Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth regretted that Mr. Darcy had been dissuaded from calling due to the need for the ladies to shop; however, he and Georgiana had been invited for dinner and duly arrived to find an Elizabeth refreshed by an hour's rest. The two oldest Gardiner children had again been allowed to dine with the adults and were introduced to Miss Darcy who had, upon entering the parlour, been captured by Elizabeth and led to a settee somewhat removed from the rest of the room where, in company with the young Miss Gardiners, Elizabeth began to draw her into a conversation. Since both of the young Gardiners were learning to play the pianoforte, Elizabeth had used that topic as a means of capturing Miss Darcy's interest and within fifteen minutes they had moved to the instrument in the room with Miss Darcy showing the others some of her skills, and observing and commenting on their efforts in her gentle voice. When it became apparent that her three companions were comfortable in each other's company, Elizabeth withdrew to join her aunt and uncle and Darcy who greeted her by saying, "Thank you. Georgiana is so shy she has a difficult time in company. I find it interesting that she feels so comfortable with your cousins and with you."

"Your sister is very sweet. I think she will find being in company easier as her confidence grows. I remember saying to your cousin that she is at a trying age. I can remember how awkward I found it."

Mr. Gardiner laughed, "Indeed, I can remember how much you resented having your mother push you into society when you wished to roam the trails and read."

"I vexed her greatly, I am sure." laughed Elizabeth. Not wishing the conversation to devolve into one in which her mother's foibles arose, she told Darcy, "I fear our afternoon tomorrow is also to be spent at the modiste. It is a necessary but unfortunate task, if we are to attend the theatre, I am afraid."

Darcy thought quietly for a few minutes as the conversation flowed around him. If the others noted his abstraction, no comment was made and when conversation seemed to lag slightly after a few minutes, he addressed Mrs. Gardiner, "I have been in the habit of getting my business matters done in the morning so as to afford time to visit here in the afternoon; however, if tomorrow afternoon you both are otherwise engaged, I could easily defer my business to the afternoon. I wonder if Miss Elizabeth," and, glancing at that lady, smiled before continuing, "would like to join me and Georgiana for a walk in Hyde Park. I am asking since I know Elizabeth is often engaged with her cousins in the mornings and I would not wish to disturb any arrangements you may have."

Mrs. Gardiner caught Elizabeth's eye and receiving a slight nod – which Darcy did not miss – responded, "Indeed, I see no problem with such a plan. Lizzy's involvement with the children is not fixed at all."

Suitable arrangements were made to have Elizabeth arrive at the Darcy house after breakfast the next morning and shortly thereafter Mrs. Gardiner announced that dinner was ready. The remainder of the evening passed pleasantly and, while the main topic of conversation revolved around the play they were to see performed two evenings hence, the Darcys were interested to learn of the Gardiner's proposed trip to The Lakes in the summer and both, having visited there themselves, were able to impart their appreciation for the area and enlighten Elizabeth as to the beauties that awaited her. In the process, Darcy found himself enjoyably engaged with Mr. Gardiner in a discussion on the joys of angling - to the amusement of Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner who commented, "I am so glad that Mr. Gardiner has found a sympathetic ear on this topic. I cannot understand the attraction myself and he has few opportunities to indulge his interest actively or in conversation."

When Elizabeth arrived at the Darcy house the next morning, she found that Georgiana had woken feeling slightly ill and had chosen to avoid the morning's walk. Elizabeth had found, despite her pleasure in Georgiana's company that she looked forward to being able to talk with Darcy alone. When she considered that walk, she remembered her surprise on seeing those who also were enjoying the pleasure of a warm spring morning. Nurses and governesses with infants and children there were aplenty; but of couples there were very few. She mentioned her observation to Darcy and she found his response intriguing.

"Most stroll in this park for one purpose," said he, "to see and be seen by others of fashionable society. And the proper time for doing so is between five and seven in the evening." He could not contain a short bark of laughter, "Since neither I nor Georgiana relish being on display, we favour an earlier hour – like now." His quick glance at Elizabeth elicited a brief nod from her, "and knowing your love of walking, I was quite sure you would enjoy a brisk walk."

Elizabeth had no trouble assuring him of her delight in doing so and they had enjoyed an hour or so of exercise and conversation interrupted only occasionally by being hailed by acquaintances of the Darcys. Elizabeth had not been oblivious to the questioning looks cast her way but was only required to deflect one or two questions before Darcy would urge them back to their walk.

Concerned that he was reluctant to expose her unduly she felt a need to say, perhaps more sharply than necessary, "I am quite prepared to handle impertinent questions, Mr. Darcy!"

"I never doubted it!" said he. "I was but exercising my preference to walk with you."

Mollified, Elizabeth was pensive for some minutes before raising an issue that her aunt had mentioned the day before.

"Mr. Darcy, my aunt told me to expect that quite a few people were likely to seek our acquaintance tomorrow night. Is this a common event, sir?"

Darcy was somewhat surprised at the question since he had not really considered the implications of their attending the show and, as he began to consider what was likely to happen, his uneasiness with what was to happen caused a look, that Elizabeth recognized well from his days in Hertfordshire, to dominate his features. She instinctively released his arm and stepped away, sensing the return of the Mr. Darcy she had disliked. The cause she could only attribute to the thought of her becoming acquainted with people he considered friends. She wished that she could return to Gracechurch Street and thoughts of the theatre had lost their anticipated pleasure.

Darcy had walked several steps, wrapped in gloom at the thought of the increased attention he would garner tonight, before realizing that Elizabeth no longer clasped his arm. He stopped in confusion and looking at Elizabeth, could not see her face hidden by her bonnet but she had also turned to look away from him. He stopped and placing a hand on her arm – willing her to turn – he asked, making no effort to mask his concern, "What is the matter, Miss Bennet?"

"I would ask you the same, sir." Replied she, "I would know why the Mr. Darcy of my first acquaintance in Hertfordshire has returned. Is the thought of my being greeted by your friends and relatives so displeasing, sir?"

Darcy could not take her meaning and, after a brief pause, said as much; to which Elizabeth replied, "You are glowering much as you did in Hertfordshire. I have to believe that my presence at the theatre is the cause of this sudden displeasure. I would remind…"

Darcy hastily interrupted her, "You could not be more wrong, Eliz…Miss Bennet. I had not realized that my face was so unwelcoming." He paused as he tried to assemble his thoughts, before blurting, "I will not deny that I thought poorly of Hertfordshire and its inhabitants when I first arrived – or at least most of its inhabitants. My thoughts now, however, are simply…well, I greatly dislike such attentions paid to me. I derive no pleasure – quite the reverse, in fact."

"I do not really understand. You have nothing to fear in such company." Elizabeth thought carefully - understanding that he could get so wrapped in his own concerns and discomfort that he could not understand hers – before adding, "You know that most will be more interested – to my dismay - in determining who the woman on your arm is? I expect them to be quite delicately and subtly fierce in their investigations. Would you not agree, sir?" Darcy was relieved to see a return of her teasing smile and his own faced softened in return.

"You have little to fear, Miss Bennet. You own civility will armour you against any inquiries and I will not allow any disrespect – from anyone!"

This was said with such determination that Elizabeth simply nodded her head in thanks as she took his arm once more and resumed their walk. As such things must, they had to conclude their exercise. Elizabeth had to return to Gracechurch Street to prepare to visit the modiste and Darcy to his business affairs. Nevertheless, Elizabeth was resolved that she would not allow his discomfort to persist. Clearly it affected him to such an extent that he did not consider how he affected others or how he appeared to them.

The press of carriages lining up to deliver their passengers to Convent Gardens was long enough for Elizabeth to be thankful that her uncle had insisted on an early departure from Gracechurch Street. When they finally arrived, it seemed that less than a half hour remained before the play was scheduled to start. Elizabeth knew that Darcy was to meet them at the theatre but was still surprised that he was there to help her step out of the carriage. When she stepped out to stand in front of him, he appeared to forget that her uncle and aunt had yet to exit; it took a pronounced throat clearing by her uncle to bring his attention back and induce him to move. He did not remove his eyes from Elizabeth and she could almost feel the warmth in his voice as he said, "You are most beautiful tonight, Miss Bennet."

She was about to tease him about being 'more than tolerable' but decided a simple 'thank you' would be best at this point. She was not yet truly comfortable in teasing him now that she no longer disliked him. He had not relinquished her hand after helping her to exit the carriage, and now placed it on his arm to lead her and her aunt and uncle into the theatre. Elizabeth could see his countenance beginning to settle into a guise with which she had been all too familiar when he visited Hertfordshire. "Mr. Darcy," she whispered sharply. His glance settled on her face and she began to withdraw her hand from his arm. His impulsive tightening of his hand atop hers broke the mask he had assumed, "Is there something wrong, Miss Bennet?"

"Only that the Mr. Darcy I have become acquainted with has again disappeared and a stranger is in his place." She had stopped in place with the Gardiners waiting patiently behind them and focused her attention on Darcy.

Dismay flooded his face as he looked at her closely and she saw a less severe look settle there. "I am sorry, Miss Bennet. Truly! I have always disliked intensely the scrutiny I receive here."

"Tonight, I am counting on you to help me face that scrutiny."

Darcy could see a trace of anxiety in her eyes although she had hidden it from her features, and squeezing her hand on his arm, said simply, "And so I shall, Miss Bennet. So I shall!"

Together they began the journey to his box. Their journey, although not long, could not be completed quickly as they moved into the press of the crowd. Progress was slow and was impeded by the occasional stoppage as one or other of Darcy's acquaintances blocked their progress to greet him and obviously to gain an introduction to the woman on his arm. Introductions were kept brief with the convenient excuse of needing to gain their box. The process she found quite revealing as it soon became possible to discern which, of those who approached them, Darcy considered a close acquaintance and which he did not. His mien grew more stiff, tension increased in the arm her hand rested on and his manner became more distant, the more tenuous the acquaintance with the individual who greeted them. His manner of introducing her was always faultless but with such individuals, little effort was made to converse beyond the barest civility. With those he held as close acquaintances, his manner was much warmer, his body less tense. In all, Elizabeth could not be disheartened by the manner in which she was treated. She expected some incivility and coldness – Miss Bingley was not an anomaly in society, after all – but amongst those with whom Darcy felt most comfortable, the predominant reaction was that of curiosity which she deemed a reasonable response.

They had barely settled there when the lights began to dim. Nevertheless, even in the few minutes that lapsed during which they could be seen by others, Elizabeth could feel herself being the focus of many eyes. Leaning towards Darcy she whispered, "Now I know how Daniel felt in the lion's den!"

He chuckled, "I have no doubt they will break their teeth on you, Miss Bennet." His voice turned more serious, "Do not concern yourself. I will not leave you alone tonight. Let us try and enjoy the play."

And enjoy it she did. Once the theatre darkened, she was able to forget that she was an object of interest and tried to focus on the play unfolding before her; however, she found that her concentration suffered at first from the presence of Mr. Darcy sitting beside her. Never, in her experience, had she been so conscious of a man's existence. He smelled of sandalwood and some other fragrance she could not identify, his physical size and the warmth of his breath, as he occasionally whispered beside her ear, disconcerted her immensely. She tried to keep her focus on the play but found it increasingly difficult and, as the first intermission arrived, it was only her intimate knowledge of the play that allowed her to pretend - with creditability she hoped - an awareness of the acting that had taken place. Mr. Gardiner had departed the box to acquire drinks while Darcy remained to deal with the expected visitors.

He was not disappointed as several of his acquaintances, none of whom could successfully claim to be close, visited the box. Darcy was not altogether comfortable with the intrusions but could not but be pleased at how easily Elizabeth deflected even the most impertinent questions. Fortunately, most of the visitors were well-mannered and more interested in being able to say that they had met the young lady that Darcy had escorted to the theatre, than to be inquisitive.

Elizabeth found, as the play progressed, that the presence of Mr. Darcy became less of a distraction and became aware, by the time the closing scene arrived, that she was quite comfortable with his physical being although she had yet to realize that she experienced it as, in truth, rather pleasant. It was during the second and third intermissions that several gentlemen, whom Darcy considered to be friends, invaded the Darcy box attended by their wives, mothers or sisters. Elizabeth observed Darcy's reserve slipping a little further and, while certainly far from jovial, his manner showed pleasure in the company; however, it took but one newcomer who could claim only a more distant acquaintance, for his reserve to re-establish itself. Oddly, none of his friends seemed particularly bothered by the change – and one gentleman actually teased him slightly about it - from which Elizabeth could only infer that this behaviour was of long standing. His manner towards her remained solicitous throughout and her obvious ease and ability to converse intelligently with his friends appeared, she believed, to afford him considerable satisfaction. From his friends, she could detect nothing but curiosity and pleasure in her company which undoubtedly added to her ease. Since she was also intimately familiar with the play itself, it provided a ready source of conversation and she made no pretence of hiding her delight in seeing it enacted on a stage.

Their exit from the theatre was not dissimilar to their entry with many people approaching to claim, or trying to claim, an acquaintance with Darcy. Elizabeth truly realized as they made their progress that Darcy was a most recognizable figure in society and that he faced such pressures on almost every public social occasion; she could more readily now appreciate his reserve and disinclination for such events and his discomfort with them. The haughtiness of his manner was perhaps partially attributable to his awareness of his station relative to others with whom he had found little in common or to appreciate; however, his reserve and taciturn nature made it even more forbidding. It was, she believed, something he must ameliorate and soften if they were to have a future together; but his reserve she could tolerate since she was coming to appreciate the qualities of the man behind it.


	13. Chapter 13

**A Letter from Longbourn**

The next morning Elizabeth and her aunt were enjoying a quiet breakfast, scanning the newspaper for articles of interest. Their attention was soon caught by a piece in the society page mentioning that Mr. Darcy had been accompanied by an unknown young woman to the theatre the previous night and speculating on her name and connection to Mr. Darcy. While her dress and manner were commented on, the article noted with interest the attentiveness of the gentleman to his partner and his less forbidding manner. Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner enjoyed a companionable chuckle although the latter did advise her niece that such public attention would likely increase the more often she was seen with Mr. Darcy. As Elizabeth remembered the evening, she realized that while she enjoyed the play itself, it was the company of Mr. Darcy, his protectiveness, his desire to ensure her comfort and pleasure and his pleasure – for such she had noticed – in presenting her to his friends and close acquaintances that stood out in her memory.

Elizabeth had just returned from her walk – during which she paid little attention to her surroundings and much to her recent dealings with Mr. Darcy - after breaking her fast when the housekeeper approached to hand her a letter. Viewing the handwriting, she exclaimed, "Oh, it is from Jane. I have been hoping to hear from her." Seating herself in the parlour and breaking open the seal she began to read.

Longbourn

April 28, 1812

Dear Lizzy,

I have so much news to impart I scarcely know where to begin. As you can see, Maria and I arrived safely. We were met by Lydia and Kitty at _ where we changed to Papa's carriage. Lydia and Kitty had arrived before us and arranged a meal at the inn but, unfortunately, spent all their monies on new bonnets and had nothing left to pay for the room and food. It would have been most embarrassing if I had not had sufficient monies available. The only good news of the trip was that it appears Mr. Wickham's engagement to Mary King has been broken. It seems an uncle came and took her to Liverpool. I am glad for her. I believe it would have been a most imprudent marriage. Lydia was quite delighted and particularly by the fact that you were not present to claim Mr. Wickham's attentions. I tried to tell Lydia that you were not interested in Mr. Wickham but I cannot see that she believed it. He seems to be a favourite of hers still.

Mama is most disappointed that I did not meet Mr. Bingley while staying in London. She cannot understand how we could meet Miss Bingley and not her brother. I find it difficult to convince her that Mr. Bingley is no longer interested in me. I know you disagree but I cannot believe otherwise. Mama is not unhappy that you remain in London although she does not fully understand why our aunt would need help with the children. I have said nothing to her of Mr. Darcy.

I have spoken but little to our father. He did call me into his study one morning to ask several questions about Mr. Darcy. I could tell him little other than that his behaviour was most amiable and that he appeared to regard you with affection. He asked my opinion and I simply told him that I had always thought well of Mr. Darcy.

I believe our father has taken some action in regards to Mr. Wickham although he has not spoken of it to anyone. Mr. Cobb made a passing reference to having talked to Papa recently while I stopped in his shop two days ago.

I do have some distressing news. It appears that Maria encountered Mr. Wickham in Meryton the day after we returned and revealed in conversation with him that Mr. Darcy had called on you frequently while in Kent and at Gracechurch Street as well. I would not be so worried by this if Lydia had not mentioned seeing Mr. Darcy while he called on our father. Mama was also aware of the visit although Papa has not said anything about it other than that Mr. Darcy called on some business matters.

Unfortunately, we were all invited to our aunt's house last night and the militia officers, including Mr. Wickham, were present as well. I observed Lydia and Mr. Wickham in conversation and shortly thereafter he approached me and began to ask me about my visit in London. It is difficult to believe him to be as wicked as Mr. Darcy claims; he is a most charming gentleman. Nevertheless, I was on my guard and do not believe I revealed anything of substance. In fact, since you had said little of Mr. Darcy in your letters, I had but to say as much to Mr. Wickham. Whether he believed me, I cannot say. I did not try to hide that he called on us at Gracechurch Street but tried to convince him it was of little moment. I am not so sure I succeeded in that regard since I seemed to detect a trace of concern in his manner when he left. His very last question quite discommoded me since he said he understood my father had been much in Meryton lately. I am afraid I did not expect the question and while I answered as neutrally as possible, he may have detected something amiss in my manner since I did stumble a bit in answering. He appeared to have left my aunt's house shortly thereafter.

I spoke to Lydia as we rode home and she casually mentioned that she had told Mr. Wickham of Mr. Darcy's visit to Longbourn and my father and how no one knew of what they had spoken. She appears to have given the matter little thought but perhaps the news that the regiment is to move to Brighton within a month or so was of more distressing interest. Certainly her lamentations are extreme, although I admit I cannot sympathize with her or regret their departure; that cannot come too soon for my liking. It is late and my mother is calling for my attention. I will finish this letter tomorrow.

Oh Lizzy, I hardly know what to write. We were woken early in the morning by a fire in our stables. The wind was quite strong and father was concerned that it would spread to other outbuildings but fortunately we have had a lot of rain lately and the buildings were all quite damp. The horses were safely removed from the stables although one could hear their frantic cries. They were able to extinguish the fire before too much damage to the stables and also to prevent it spreading and father says we were very fortunate indeed. If it were not for the recent rain, the fire could have easily done considerable damage.

Papa was quite puzzled as to how the fire could start since we are always quite careful as to that possibility. It appears now that it was set deliberately. One of the grooms found a lamp broken behind the building and it is not one of ours. We do not know who could have done such a foul thing. It is not just the building but the horses could have died if the fire had gotten out of control.

The concern with the fire delayed my continuing this letter and our Aunt Philips visit at luncheon delayed it further. She came to tell us a rumour that Mr. Wickham had deserted the militia. In fact, that he had escaped arrest since orders had been issued for his arrest. I did not know whether to put much credit in such a rumour but Lydia and Kitty had met Denny while in Meryton and he confirmed the story in its particulars. Apparently Colonel Forster had been made aware of Mr. Wickham's many debts of honour and his debts with tradesmen although, according to Denny, someone has been buying those debts from our shopkeepers. Also according to Denny the Colonel was not satisfied with Mr. Wickham's behaviour – stories of inappropriate behaviour with several young women were mentioned. Lydia was inclined to dispute such claims and was quite angry with Denny since he did not seem inclined to do likewise. Lydia appears to believe that Mr. Wickham has been most unfairly treated and Mama was inclined to the same feelings until Papa very firmly stated that the stories were quite true and that Mr. Wickham was not a gentleman to be trusted in any particular. I cannot say that Lydia took the admonishment well or gave any credit to it.

Shortly before I finished this letter, one of our grooms reported that Mr. Adams – who, as you remember took over the east farm from Mr. Knowles – reported seeing someone running away from our stable early this morning. He had thought little of it until informed of the fire and then mentioned that the man had worn a militia uniform. Father intends to question Mr. Adams further in the morning and to mention the matter to Colonel Forster as well. He did not say as much but I think he is concerned that Mr. Wickham set the fire. I can think of no reason for his doing so unless he believes my father to have been behind his troubles. Was this an act of vengeance? It seems too horrible to be true. Did our father act in concert with Mr. Darcy? It seems all too possible, the more I think on it.

I am sorry this letter is so full of distressing news but everything seems to have conspired to that end. I do hope my next letter is more cheerful although perhaps I should take comfort that Mr. Wickham has removed himself from our lives. That is good news, I hope. Perhaps I can also take solace that Mama has been so wrapped in gossip about Mr. Wickham that she has yet to mention Mr. Bingley's name today. I would willingly have her speak of Mr. Bingley often if it would have prevented such events as have occurred.

I would like to hear how your courtship is progressing but perhaps you should address such a letter to my father. I cannot be sure that Mama will not read my mail in the hope you are meeting suitors although she does appear quite disenchanted lately with the efforts of our aunt.

Your most affectionate and puzzled sister,

Jane

Elizabeth read the letter with increasing concern which was heightened by the possibility that Mr. Wickham may have attempted an act of vengeance against her family. Had she placed them all in danger by her actions? She found it hard to believe that the genial man she had met as Mr. Wickham could act so and yet, when she remembered his despicable attempt to elope with Georgiana which was as much about vengeance against Mr. Darcy as it was to acquire a fortune, she could no longer be sure.

With considerable trepidation she sought her aunt and, finding her working on the household accounts, begged her attention and presented her with Jane's letter. Mrs. Gardiner, seeing Elizabeth's distress, read the letter carefully, and then again, before responding, "This is quite serious, Lizzy. Your uncle must be made aware of this as quickly as possible."

"Have I brought these troubles on my family, aunt? If I had said nothing, would this have happened?"

Mrs. Gardiner could see that Elizabeth felt some responsibility for the situation facing her family and replied warmly, "Nonsense, Lizzy. You did the correct thing and your father acted appropriately as well. Would you have left the merchants of Meryton to bear Wickham's debts which they can ill afford? No, the only fault here is Mr. Wickham's and I am less reluctant than Jane to ascribe the blame for the damage to the stable to him."

Elizabeth was quiet for several moments before asking, "Should I tell Mr. Darcy what has happened? I am sure he will learn of it from my father but when, I cannot say."

"He is to call this afternoon, is he not? I believe I should ask your uncle to meet with him then."

Elizabeth could see that her aunt was more concerned than the events would suggest necessary and pressed her for an explanation but Mrs. Gardiner deflected her questions on the matter and finally Elizabeth plagued her no further.

When Darcy walked into the Gardiner parlour that afternoon, he was greeted by an obviously concerned Elizabeth and her aunt and uncle. Elizabeth wasted no time in handing him Jane's letter to read and watched the play of emotions that crossed his face. His frown of displeasure and then pursed lips suggested he was reading about Lydia and Jane's dealings with Mr. Wickham; however, both disappeared as he continued to read and his quick glance at her and the Gardiners accompanied by a worried look – Elizabeth wondered when she had begun to read his moods so well – suggested he was reading about the attack on the stables. After reading the letter once more, he addressed them all, "I do not like this at all."

Mr. Gardiner did not try to hide his concern, "Has Mr. Wickham been prone to violence in the past, Mr. Darcy?"

"No, not that I am aware of at any rate. Of course,…"

Elizabeth could not help saying, "Of course?"

Darcy grimaced as his gaze shifted to her, "He has not been so harassed before. He usually makes his escape before his deeds become known." He hesitated, "I am sorry. I may have caused more harm by trying to help. I cannot say what he will do but I do not like this situation."

Mr. Gardiner shook his head, "Do not take too much on yourself, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Wickham's deeds are no one's fault except his own." With a thoughtful look at, first Elizabeth and then Darcy, he raised the question that Elizabeth was reluctant to voice, "Should we be concerned - take precautions?"

Darcy ran his fingers through his hair – a gesture Elizabeth was now coming to associate with uncertainty – before replying, "I think so…but I do not…I wish Richard was here. He might have some advice."

At Mr. Gardiner's quizzical look, he said, "Richard is my cousin – Colonel Fitzwilliam." Nodding to Elizabeth he continued, "Miss Elizabeth met him in Kent when he and I visited my aunt. He is away on military business. I will send him an express but I doubt he can help us immediately."

They all sat in silence for a few minutes before Darcy broke the silence, "I think, at the very least, a few extra precautions are warranted." Looking at Elizabeth, he said, "I think we should assume that Wickham has winkled out my interest in you. He will not know of the courtship, but that we met in Kent and that I called here, will not escape his notice. He is not particularly intelligent or even smart but he does possess a certain cunning along with his charming façade." His face grew more thoughtful as he said, "If there is anything that gives me hope or confidence, it is that Wickham has the fortunate, for us anyway, conceit in his intelligence and abilities which, outside of a talent to charm young ladies, are sadly lacking. He is, as well, indolent and inclined to take the easiest path to any goal. He always assumes that he is smarter than anyone with a sense of responsibility. I believe his success in charming, and hiding his faults from, my father inculcated this belief." His gaze lost that introspective aspect as he stared at Elizabeth, "I also think you should not venture out without at least two grooms or footmen in attendance." Ignoring Elizabeth's instinctive moue of dissent, he looked at Mr. Gardiner seeking his support which that gentleman was quick to provide.

"Mr. Darcy is quite correct, Lizzy. We should not take chances despite the inconvenience." He took in his niece's rebellious face, "We will not circumscribe your behaviour, my dear, but neither should we assume that nothing can or will happen. You are a likely target – as are your sisters. I intend to write your father and suggest that he take appropriate measures."

Darcy opened his mouth to speak and then closed it which Mrs. Gardiner noticed and, upon being prompted to speak by her, he - with considerable caution – said, "Will Mr. Bennet take the matter seriously enough, do you think, to act upon a such a warning?"

Elizabeth's instinctive flare of anger caused her to start to reply sharply before reconsidering. Darcy had clearly not wanted to offend but his knowledge of her father was limited and based on the latter's behaviour, she could not fault him for expressing concern, "I was about to answer that 'of course he would' but if you are uncertain about the problem, I am sure my father is as well. I think a note from my uncle, advising him of the precautions he is taking and recommending that my father do likewise, might answer."

Mr. Gardiner assented and promised to send a note by express immediately and left for his study to carry out that task. Elizabeth, however, was concentrating on Mr. Darcy and could see that he had turned thoughtful and abstracted. Not wishing to disturb his thoughts, she waited patiently, having come to realize that he was not prone to impulsive action - like that of which he had once accused Mr. Bingley – and considered a matter carefully before acting. She waited patiently until his attention seemed to return to his surroundings and prompted, "Mr. Darcy, would you care to share your thoughts with us?"

He blinked rapidly for a few moments before smiling, "I must apologize for my rudeness. I was simply considering whether I should take more action in this matter."

Seeing Elizabeth's raised eyebrow, he continued his explanation, "I was thinking of hiring a few Bow Street Runners to try and find him. Unfortunately, I do not know where he is. I would not expect him to remain in Hertfordshire. It should be difficult to hide there, I would expect?" His questioning glance at Elizabeth received an answering nod to which he replied, "then I think it best to try and see if he has come to London. He is now a deserter and the militia will also be searching for him although perhaps not as diligently as required."

A few minutes later, Elizabeth could see Darcy watching her carefully and he, finding himself suddenly under scrutiny, suggested that they both might benefit from a brisk walk, a suggestion with which Elizabeth found herself in complete sympathy. Within minutes they were out of the house and walking quickly and, although no destination had been agreed upon, their feet seemed to be taking them unbidden towards the local park. As they walked Elizabeth found herself scanning her surroundings constantly and realized that she was searching for a glimpse of George Wickham. That her concern had been noted was clear when Darcy said, "Do not worry, Miss Bennet. Wickham will not bother you while I am around."

Elizabeth glanced up at him briefly before returning her gaze to the path ahead, "It is the uncertainty, Mr. Darcy. I find it incredible that he would have attempted to burn our stables; but, if he can or will do that, what else might he attempt?"

Darcy nodded, "I think it is even more urgent to enlist additional help to find him. You must assure me that, under no circumstances, will you venture out without the protection I mentioned."

Elizabeth could see his earnestness and worry and quickly gave the assurances he requested and then said, "Enough of Mr. Wickham! Let us talk of more cheerful topics. Tell me about Pemberley."

"What would you wish to hear?"

"Anything you wish to tell me. I remember it has a wonderful library – at least according to Miss Bingley."

"I seriously doubt if Miss Bingley ever entered the library after her first tour of the house." Darcy's grin was a bit wry, "She has been there but a few times and I do not remember her venturing far from her rooms and the drawing or music rooms."

"She did not explore the grounds?"

"If she did, it was a most cursory exploration I assure you." He smiled down at her, "On the other hand I believe you would love the park. There is any number of wonderful trails. My favourite is…" Darcy then spent, under skillful questioning from Elizabeth, the remainder of their walk describing several of his favourite walks. They rejoined the Gardiners in a much better frame of mind than when they had separated from them.


	14. Chapter 14

**A Courtin' We Will Go**

The next few days followed a predictable pattern. In the mornings Elizabeth would assist her aunt with her children, amusing them with books, games, walks in the park and sundry other activities which she could be cajoled into by said children. Any activities outside the house always took place under the close and watchful presence of grooms or footmen and Elizabeth found that, after several days, that presence was rather reassuring and hardly intrusive at all. Darcy continued to devote his mornings to his business affairs leaving him free to devote the remainder of the day to courting Elizabeth.

That process was going more smoothly than either expected although minor disturbances could not be avoided. One such took place the day or two after their attendance at the theatre. Elizabeth had mentioned how she had observed his responses to those acquaintances that approached them at the theatre. "In particular," said she, "I could feel when someone who approached was either well known to you or disliked, by your arm." At his expression of surprise, she nodded, "Yes, your arm. I was not always able to see your face but your arm would tense under my hand when someone you disliked or did not know well approached us. You were quite relaxed in the presence of your friends on the other hand. It was quite interesting."

Darcy was obviously not bothered by the comment, "It has ever been thus. I do not, as I mentioned once before, have the knack of recommending myself to strangers."

Elizabeth forced herself to consider her next words carefully, since he could easily be offended by them. After a few moments, she felt she had to proceed - the issue would not disappear after all – and said in as neutral a tone as possible as she probed, "Are you aware of how you were viewed in Hertfordshire?"

"I think I am now, although I truly gave it very little consideration at the time."

"Are you aware that your manner led them and myself to believe that you felt us as unworthy of your attention or consideration? That we were beneath your notice perhaps?"

Under her hand she could feel his arm tensing and saw a severe cast come over his countenance as he mastered his emotions. He also strove to match her dispassionate tones as he replied, "I am very much aware of this. Your words to me in Kent – 'From the very beginning, from the first moment I may almost say, of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others' - plagued me for a week when I returned to London. I was forced, if you will, to reconsider the whole of our acquaintance including that assembly in Meryton. As I did so it became clear to me that I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, if not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles but left to follow them in pride and conceit."

He shook his head as he spoke, a touch of sadness colouring his face and voice, "Unfortunately an only son – and for many years an only child – I was spoiled by my parents who though good themselves – and my father particularly was all that was benevolent and amiable – allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of the rest of the world, to wish, at least, to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was and such I might still be if you had not spoken as you did."

"I had no idea my words would affect you so."

"I can easily understand that. For much of our acquaintance you thought me devoid of any proper feeling – I am sure you did."

"Please, do not repeat what I said then. These recollections will not do at all. I am most heartedly ashamed of the mistakes that I made."

Darcy stopped and took both her hands in his, "Miss Bennet….Miss Elizabeth, what did you say that was not the truth? I find no fault with your opinions. That you were misled by Wickham, I cannot hold to your account. You had not the means or the experience to understand his deceptions. The fault was mine, and mine alone, for not exposing him to the world."

Darcy moved to continue their perambulations, releasing one of her hands and fastening the other in his elbow with his hand anchoring it firmly. Elizabeth walked in silence beside him, casting a glance now and then at his face which seemed wrapped in pensive thought. She made no effort to speak, allowing him time to form the words he so obviously needed. Finally he spoke, his words slow and cautious as if he was tasting them as they were uttered, reluctant to have even one of them ill-suited to his intent, "Miss Bennet, I was…taught to observe the proprieties strictly…to restrict my confidences to those of my closest acquaintance…to…observe the prerogatives of rank and station…to accord such prerogatives respect regardless of the merits of the individual and to…disdain those not of rank or position despite their merits as individuals. I would…tolerate my aunt's meanness, incivility and...officiousness to a degree, although I found it abhorrent and would not have done so, if she were of lesser rank. She is…her behaviour is no less objectionable than that of your mother and yet you bore it with more civility than I ever showed your mother who has, I believe, more cause - or excuse - for her behaviour arising, as it does, out of a very real concern for the future of her daughters and herself."

Elizabeth could think of no words to interrupt him and realized his need to express these thoughts and her need to hear them. She could not, however, dwell on them because he, after a pause of some moments, was continuing, "As I contemplated my actions, my behaviour, I came to realize the hypocrisy that they represented. I could scorn your connections with trade without considering that I had accepted as my closest friend, a man whose roots were steeped in trade. I could disdain the improprieties of your younger sisters and your mother without weighing in the balance those of my own relations. My aunt's behaviour was no less improper and I can assure you that she has displayed it in a broader society than you experienced and my own sister was guilty of an impropriety that could have blighted her life and reputation."

At this Elizabeth felt compelled to intercede, "You are, I think, too harsh with your sister. She did not elope and she did tell you. She was but fifteen!"

"If I had not, by a stroke of providence, visited her, she would have eloped. And as to her age, she is as old as your youngest sister is she not?"

"True, true – but she did not elope and Lydia is everything but proper in her behaviour. Jane and I try to restrain her but our mother…" Elizabeth could only shake her head in dismay and not a little disgust.

"Your sister is young and not beyond help I believe."

"Unfortunately, my mother sees nothing improper in her behaviour and our father is more concerned with his books and his peace and quiet which would be sacrificed if he restrained her." Elizabeth was immediately dismayed that she had revealed so much but when she considered how open Darcy had been, she could not fault herself for her frankness.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, each considering that which the other had revealed, before Darcy said, "Let us put aside a comparison of the improprieties of our relatives for the moment. We, neither of us, should be judged by them. I do wish to try and explain – not excuse but explain – some of my behaviour when I was introduced to Hertfordshire society." He took several deep breaths before continuing, "If you had not been with me last night, I would have been subject to the attentions of several young women and their mothers seeking to attach themselves to me. I cannot attend a ball without ensuring that I am not caught in a compromising position, or hear, as I did at your assembly, whispers of my income and possession of a large estate following me, before I had been there for more than a quarter hour. I rarely visit my club without being approached by someone looking to take advantage of me. I have learned, from harsh experience, to trust few beyond my limited circle."

Elizabeth realized the matter was more complex than she had thought initially, "So in response, you disapprove of everyone and everything?"

Darcy looked at her in surprise and a reluctant smile - albeit a very small one - curved his lips, "I would have thought you to have said 'hate' instead of disapprove!"

Elizabeth was forced to smile as she remembered her words from her debate with Darcy wile at Netherfield, "Am I wilfully misunderstanding you now, sir?"

Darcy shook his head and they walked in silence for several minutes before Elizabeth ventured to resume the discussion, "I am attempting to sketch your character, sir, and I fear my questions are testing your patience severely."

Darcy's countenance remained thoughtful as he formed his thoughts, "I admit that my behaviour when we first met was…deplorable and I was little concerned as to how I was viewed since I did not see anyone whose opinion was of concern to me." He glanced at her as he said, "in that I was very much mistaken and it is a salutary lesson. Was my manner so dreadful? In retrospect I believe it was but it is hard to see oneself through the eyes of another."

Elizabeth's surprise at his words could not be doubted, "Mr. Darcy, you were the personification of disdain for everyone around you except for your own party and how, sir, would you know if worthwhile opinions existed, if you engaged them not at all?"

"When I left Kent I was – as I have said - both discouraged and determined. I realized that you thought poorly of me, that I had not recommended myself to you." He gave a rather nervous laugh, "You will perhaps be amazed at my vanity but I had rather thought you to be expecting my addresses, and that you returned my approbation. It was, I admit, a shock to learn otherwise. I perforce was required, after my initial anger, – I will not scruple to admit that, at first, I placed the blame on your want of sense – to consider how and why you could have taken me in such dislike. As I reviewed your words I kept returning to one phrase – 'From the very beginning – from the first moment – I may almost say of my acquaintance with you' – convinced me that you had overheard a comment that should never have been uttered and was, within a matter of weeks, quite untrue."

Elizabeth shook her head, embarrassed at how her prejudices had biased her opinions, "It was certainly not the most politic thing to have said and it certainly gave impetus to my interpreting all of your subsequent behaviour in the most uncharitable light. However, if my manners led you to believe me to return your interest, I must apologize. It was most unconsciously done. I do not think I would have given much credit to Mr. Wickham's story, or, as I did, encourage his reciting of it to myself, if it had not confirmed my ill-opinion of you. For this I am most heartedly ashamed."

"Your retrospections should be totally void of reproach: the contentment arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of innocence. But with me, it is not so. Painful recollections will intrude which cannot, which ought not, to be repelled. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first to accept, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly instructed! I would have come to you without a doubt of my reception – would have made you an offer of marriage – likely insulted you gravely in doing so since I perceived that you were to receive all the advantages of such a union. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased. I dread to think of your reaction if I had made you an offer while all these issues lay between us. That those very qualities which I had despaired of finding in a woman, and which I so prized, were disregarded – were not given their proper value - when compared to my sacrifices I believed I would suffer should I make an offer."

He shook his head slowly, "My arrogance was unbelievable. And yet, I knew my affections for you were such that I could not simply walk away. I had done so in Hertfordshire but with no success. I knew I had to change. I knew that my behaviour must be at fault, if you, whom I had grown to respect so greatly, found fault with it. Hence my contemplation." He smiled ruefully, "I believe Georgiana thought me quite melancholy in my retrospections and I admit, to my shame, that I ignored her very much that week. I spoke little to anyone – not even Georgiana. I knew I must change. I was... determined to show you that I had changed, become a man that Miss Elizabeth Bennet would wish to have as a husband. I could not bear, you see, to know that you were in the world and thinking ill of me."

Elizabeth found herself moved as never before by his expressions and words and could not but let him know that her opinions and feelings for him had changed; even if she was unsure that her feelings matched his, she believed herself well on the path to falling in love with him. That they would continue their courtship at Longbourn was no longer a matter for conjecture but only of when. She was, she admitted to herself, loath to be courted under her mother's gaze despite the necessity of doing so. Stopping and turning to face him with a small smile, she said, "I believe, Mr. Darcy, that you may take comfort in knowing that I no longer think ill of you at all. Quite the opposite, in fact, and to such a point as I am considering returning to Longbourn and hoping you will, if not accompany me, at least call on me there?"

Before Darcy could respond, which he was quickly prepared to do, Elizabeth stopped him from speaking by the simple act of laying her fingers on his lips, "Please let me continue. I will not, cannot pretend that my affections are equal to yours. You have had some months for them to develop and grow. A bare fortnight ago, I rather thought you to be the last man I would ever want to marry. Now I feel so very different but my feelings and affections are still new to me and very confused. I need time, Mr. Darcy. Time to know you and time to know my own feelings with some assurance."

Darcy clasped both her hands and kissed the fingers of each before replying, "I would expect nothing less. I am more delighted than you can know that your opinion has changed. That your affections are as positive as they are gives me great hope for the future and you have my assurances that you will have all the time you require and that no offer will be made before you are ready to hear it."

"And Longbourn?"

"I would have no concerns about returning, although I admit I was hoping that Bingley would return before we did so. I cannot, of course, speak to his intentions but admit to hoping he would return also and I could stay with him."

"When is he expected to return?"

"In a week or less, I believe. I have not heard from him since his initial response."

"Elizabeth was relieved that she could delay her return for some time longer and communicated as much to Darcy. The remainder of their walk was devoid of the privacy that both could have wished for as her young cousins sought their attention. Elizabeth had the pleasure of watching the tall, serious looking man beside her entertain her cousins with stories of his childhood spent at Pemberley. So enthralled were they that his attention was not relinquished even when they had returned home and were enjoying tea with Mrs. Gardiner. That he would make a caring and protective father she had suspected, given his efforts to raise his sister but any doubts were erased as she watched and encouraged his interactions with her cousins.

The next morning Elizabeth chose, after breakfast to walk to the local shops which were some mile or so distant. Accompanied by John, the Gardiner's footman, it took little more than a quarter hour to reach her first destination. It was a fairly busy morning and the noise and bustle of traffic and customers made for a lively scene. As Elizabeth left the cobbler's shop, where a pair of her boots were to be repaired, and headed for the local bookstore her attention was captured by the sight of a man standing across the street, some thirty or forty yards away, but facing away from her. He appeared to be looking into the window of a shop and he seemed familiar. As she paid him more attention, he turned and met her eyes and was instantly recognizable as George Wickham. He made no effort at first to approach her and she could not readily discern the expression on his face, although she was certain that it contained none of the amiability that she associated with him. Then he took a step towards her but having come to a complete stop herself, John was quickly by her side and Wickham immediately came to a stop.

"Miss Elizabeth?"

"John, do you see that man across the street facing us?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"That is George Wickham. Try to fix his face in your mind so as to recognize him in the future should the need arise."

Wickham remained staring at Elizabeth for some ten seconds and had raised his hat and bestowed what she thought to be a derisive bow before being obscured by passing carriages and wagons. He had disappeared from sight when Elizabeth could once again observe where he had stood. She found herself quite unsettled by the experience. What had he meant by simply standing there? Was this meeting accidental? Or had he deliberately made himself known? What could he mean by it? That he had been prevented from accosting her by John's presence she was convinced and for the extra protection he had afforded she could only be thankful. She was not of a mind to believe or trust in Wickham's gentlemen-like manners or behaviour. He was, she remembered, not wearing his regimentals but was garbed in a gentleman's clothing, although even from this distance they appeared rather dishevelled and dusty which spoke poorly of his situation. His manner she thought insolent and he obviously believed she knew his history else he would have approached her despite the presence of a man servant.

If his purpose was to unsettle her, it had been accomplished and her first thought was to return to the Gardiner's home but the company of John did provide, on further thought, an assurance of protection. He was a burly man in his mid-thirties who had been in service with the Gardiners for some twenty years. Not unintelligent, his loyalty to the Gardiners was unquestioned and he had a great fondness for the two oldest Bennet sisters from having known them from their childhood. Elizabeth could not be sure that Wickham had not crossed the street but felt that entering a shop would not be a problem if John was attending her closely. Despite her efforts to appear calm and to concentrate on finding an enjoyable book to read, she found herself quite discomposed and, after a half hour of browsing, left the shop with as many books in her hand as when she entered – which is to say, none.

When she entered the Gardiner's house she wasted little time in apprising her aunt of all that had transpired and found a sympathetic ear for all her concerns. Since Darcy was expected to visit in a matter of a few hours they chose to wait for his visit to impart the news while Mrs. Gardiner sent a note to her husband that his presence would be needed at that time. Until then, the children were made to stay indoors despite it being a fine spring day, which they could normally expect to enjoy by a visit to the local park.

When Darcy arrived to see Elizabeth he was ushered directly into Mr. Gardiner's study where he was surprised to see Elizabeth and the Gardiners. Elizabeth could see his concern and puzzlement and attempted to smile reassuringly although, since it appeared to increase his concern, she rather thought her efforts to have failed.

"Ah, Mr. Darcy. We are glad to see you," stated her uncle with, for him, an unexpectedly grave air.

"What is the matter? Has something happened?" Darcy exclaimed.

Casting a quick glance at his niece Mr. Gardiner said, "I believe it must, although Lizzy has not revealed it to me. We chose to wait for your arrival so that Lizzy would not have to repeat her story."

Now the focus of all eyes, Elizabeth sought to allay their fears, "Truly, I may be making too much of what happened but….but it made me uncomfortable and … worried."

"What happened, Lizzy?" prompted her uncle.

Elizabeth then proceeded to tell of her trip to the shops and the encounter with Wickham. The faces of both her uncle and Darcy grew even graver as her story unfolded and neither interrupted her until she had finished. Darcy, who had taken the chair next to her, touched her hand lightly in support and she could tell he wished to do more. His face, by the time she finished, was flushed and she could see him mastering his anger. Finally, it became too much for him and he rose quickly and went to gaze out the window. She could see his hands clenching and unclenching by his side and finally after several minutes, with her aunt and uncle talking quietly together, she could not help but rise and walk over to stand beside him and place her hand on his arm.

"He did not harm me, Mr. Darcy. John was there to protect me."

It was almost a growl as he replied, "He threatened you, Elizabeth. That, I will not abide."

That he had called her by her Christian name did not escape her but was of no significance under the circumstances. She noted it as an indication of his feelings for her; was warmed by it; and was not inclined to upbraid him even gently for the breach of propriety. There were more important concerns and she took his arm and gently pulled him back to sit with her aunt and uncle who had noticed their interaction and their niece's familiarity with her suitor, choosing to ignore any impropriety that may have occurred. Mrs. Gardiner voiced her most pressing concern, "I have kept the children indoors today. Are they in any danger?"

Darcy and Mr. Gardiner looked at each other and Darcy appeared to answer for both of them when he responded, "We cannot know but I think extra precautions are necessary and sensible. I will send an extra footman to you and I believe that they should be attended by two men at all times. As well, when Miss Bennet or you venture out, I would ask that you be attended by both men as well." He paused slightly before saying, "I cannot say that Wickham is dangerous but this behaviour is unusual and I do not know what to expect." He lapsed into thought before adding, "He appears to have been able to find you here in London, Miss Bennet. I assume that one of your sisters may have told him where you were staying."

"Yes, or even my mother – she would not have seen any reason to withhold such information. Certainly Lydia or Kitty could have told him or even Maria Lucas now that I think on it. There was no secrecy involved and Jane did mention in her letter that you had called here at Gracechurch Street."

Darcy remained silent for some few minutes while Elizabeth and her relations talked quietly of how they would deal with this problem until finally Elizabeth noticed that he was attending their conversation and appeared to have relaxed somewhat. She knew him well enough by now to know that, whatever he had been contemplating, would be revealed when he deemed it appropriate but, in this instance, she felt he needed to share with her his thoughts and plans if such were being considered. That he would be less reluctant to disclose them in private she intuited and therefore suggested, "Perhaps, Mr. Darcy, we could take advantage of the fair weather and venture out for a stroll?"

The small smile that crossed his lips was mirrored in his words, "Is the answer to any problem, to take a walk, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth delighted in the gentle tease and responded accordingly, "Of course!" and leaning towards him whispered, "And should the walk fail in its purpose, I believe the company will quite distract me from any problem." She could not hide the light blush that accompanied her words – she was not normally so forward and she was not insensible of the mixture of amusement and disapproval being expressed by her relatives and the pleasure on Darcy's mien. They could not have heard what was whispered but the intimacy of their behaviour was not entirely appropriate under the circumstances.

Shortly thereafter they departed in the Darcy carriage accompanied by a maid to walk in Hyde Park. If Elizabeth had hoped to gain some insight into his plans with respect to Wickham, she was forced to remain less than fully satisfied. Darcy admitted to considering some actions but that he had not firmed then in his own mind and, he conceded, their execution would depend on her decision with respect to their courtship.

"Wickham has moved into London and appears to be directing his attentions to you. I have made arrangements to hire several Bow Street Runners to seek him out if possible and will now fix their efforts since we know he is in London. More I cannot do although I will send an express to Colonel Forster advising him that Wickham has been seen here. I can hope they will make an effort to find him as well."

They walked quietly with casual comments about their surroundings, both content to enjoy a companionable walk devoid of those issues which might still separate them or, in the case of Wickham, plague them. That they were, on occasion approached by acquaintances of Darcy, was to be expected and Elizabeth could see that here, away from a press of people, Darcy was less reserved in general. However, one such meeting did arise which called forth the hauteur she had seen displayed in Hertfordshire. Approached by one gentleman, whose manner Elizabeth thought to be too reminiscent of Lady Catherine and whose attitude towards her was redolent in superiority and condescension, Darcy was quick to both rebuke and end the conversation. His sincerity was obvious as he murmured, "I must apologize. I could not avoid the acquaintance. I hope you are not too offended."

"I am not, Mr. Darcy. I cannot be offended by one whose opinion is of such little value to me. Do not apologize for behaviour of those over whom you have no control." She was thoughtful for a moment of two, "Do not feel obliged to rebuke all who display their…condescension so obviously. I have learned to laugh at those whose opinions are of no importance to me. I refuse to be offended by such as those."

"Thank you. I believe you to be more charitable than me in such situations. I am not disposed to accept any disrespect to those that I…care for." He was pensive for several moments before venturing further comment, "I must, I suppose, take some consolation in the fact that, having offended you so greatly, my opinion must have been greatly valued."

Elizabeth remained thoughtful – she had not missed the slight pause before he said 'care for' – but focused her response on the latter part of his declaration, "I had not considered it in that light but I believe you have the right of it. Your opinion was and is of…great value to me."

"Can I hope that your opinion of me is improving?"

"I think, sir, that you know it is."

"Has it improved sufficiently, do you think, for me to court you in Hertfordshire?"

Elizabeth could detect both hope and uncertainty in his voice and she walked in silence for several minutes while she considered how best to phrase her answer. She was so wrapped in thought, she did not notice his increasing discomfort until glancing up she could see the worry on his face and feel the tension in his arm beneath her hand.

"Oh, I do apologize. I did not intend to discomfit you. The answer is yes and … no!" The confusion her reply engendered was obvious and prompted a small smile as she attempted to explain further.

"I can see my answer has perplexed you and I am sorry. Let me explain. Yes, I am prepared to have you court me at Longbourn but no, I would prefer to stay here for the nonce."

"I have no objection certainly but would wish to understand your thinking."

"It is quite simple really. I have enjoyed our encounters here. I feel we have made much progress without my mother's attentiveness and would like to continue for a short while longer. That we must go back, I know."

"Perhaps we could wait till Bingley returns. I expect him soon, although he has not given me a fixed date for his arrival. I had thought to stay with him if he returns to Netherfield. Otherwise I would find rooms at the Inn."

Elizabeth nodded, "That seems appropriate." She grinned, "If Mr. Bingley returns, my mother will be so appreciative of his presence that she is likely to miss yours altogether. Of course, when she is advised of the courtship, you will not be able to escape her attentions."

"A man who can tolerate the attentions of Lady Catherine has nothing to fear from your mother, Miss Bennet."

"Spoken like a gentleman, sir; however, be assured that I will endeavour to spare you her effusions to the best of my ability."

Their footsteps having, by this time, returned them to the entrance to the park, they continued on companionably until they reached Darcy's house where they joined Georgiana for tea after which they all removed to the Gardiners for dinner and enjoyable conversation.

Fortunately, there had been no further sightings of Wickham although a few days after the initial occasion, the Gardiners had been visited by Lieutenant Denny who was accompanied by several soldiers and looking to arrest Wickham for desertion. Elizabeth led him to the spot where she had noticed Wickham and Denny and his soldiers could thereafter be seen patrolling the area. Elizabeth rather thought their presence would more likely deter Wickham's return than lead to his arrest but took some comfort that Wickham was unlikely to present any danger as long as they remained in the area.

Elizabeth found that the following days blurred together in her memory. The mornings remained the province of her cousins and herself while her afternoons and evenings belonged to herself and Darcy alone. That is not to say that they were in each other's company only. Rather the converse, in fact, since Georgiana and her aunt and uncle were frequent companions and they attended an art exhibition, visited the British Museum – in company with her cousins and Georgiana – and dined in company with a couple with whom Darcy was very close. She had become accustomed to fending off intrusive and impertinent questions and Darcy had developed a facility to deflect many questions before they arose.

In the case of the dinner, however, she found herself in very agreeable company. It was a small group, Darcy having invited several of his closest friends and their wives to dine with Elizabeth and the Gardiners. Georgiana acted, with some reluctance, as hostess for the evening and both Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth found themselves easing her through the process to her evident appreciation, once the evening was done. The gentlemen were all school friends of Darcy and had also attended with him at Cambridge; their wives were only a year or two older than Elizabeth herself and surprisingly, like herself, were more a product of the country than town. Their eagerness to make her acquaintance was all that was amiable and civil and it was not difficult to ascertain that between each of the couples there existed a strong affection. The gentlemen, if not as amiable and easy in company as Mr. Bingley, were sociable, although Elizabeth was amused to note that one of them, reportedly a distant cousin of Darcy himself, seemed to possess a reserved nature not too dissimilar from that of his cousin.

It was not the dinner or the exhibit that remained foremost in her mind; instead, she could remember several of their discussions that had taken place. One such occurred a day or two after she had seen Wickham. The day had been windy and rainy and they were ensconced in the Gardiner sitting room with a maid occupying a chair far enough removed as to ensure them privacy in their conversation. They had been discussing their removal to Longbourn since Darcy had finally received a post from Bingley to the effect that he would arrive in London in a day or two. Elizabeth's thoughts were diverted to Darcy's re-introduction to Meryton society and their reception of him and her pensiveness was easily communicated to Darcy who sought an explanation. Elizabeth took several moments to frame her response, saying finally, "I am just thinking on how to repair the damage that I and Wickham have done to your reputation." She gave him a rueful smile, "I am afraid I was quite unkind in my humour."

"What can you have said of me that I did not deserve?... Was it so very dreadful?"

"Not so very bad - but I confess I did allow myself to exercise a great deal of freedom."

Darcy importuned her to reveal some of her more playful efforts and she finally relented and laughing said, "It was not so very dreadful I suppose. I did warn Mr. Goulding to ensure that his cows be hidden from your presence since your glower would curdle their milk before it could be delivered."

She laughed with a degree of embarrassment saying, "I also believed I warned Mrs. Hayes, who was to enter her confinement in a few months, to avoid your company since that same glower might shorten her confinement period." She glanced up at Darcy to see him biting his lips to control his mirth. He passed a hand across his lips before saying, "And that Miss Bennet, is the worst you said of me?"

"Oh, I am sure I said more. I can remember little now, although I do recollect saying that there was just enough pleasantness between you and Mr. Bingley for one good sort of man and that Mr. Bingley had received it all." A quick glance at Darcy's face eliminated any concerns she harboured as to his being offended. Indeed, he seemed rather thoughtful himself which prompted her to ask for the reason.

"I have no desire to hide this from you Miss Bennet. Indeed, since it is possible that we may be in Miss Bingley's company at some time, I believe you should hear it first from me." He took a deep breath and, releasing it, blurted, "It was shortly after I first made your acquaintance. I believe Miss Bingley was amusing herself by disparaging the local ladies and commented on reports of the beauty of yourself and your older sister and was, for my benefit I suspect, being most pointed about you. To my shame I said about you, 'She a beauty, I would sooner call her mother a wit' – however, this was early in our acquaintance and I was, I believe, attempting to deflect Miss Bingley's notice of my interest."

Elizabeth chuckled, "That is not so very bad but it does bring to mind a question. Miss Bingley seemed very early in our acquaintance to take me in extreme dislike which I cannot explain since she was more than friendly with Jane or at least acted so in her presence. With me she was rather uncivil than not."

Darcy blushed slightly, "I am to blame, I am afraid. I think it was at Sir William's that she caught me somewhat distracted and asked for an explanation. I spoke without thinking and my words made her jealous since she had long desired an attachment to me."

"That her wishes were so directed was very quickly and easily seen but whatever could you have said?"

"I believe I said that I was meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow. Miss Bingley asked to whom I was referring and I, unwisely perhaps since she took great delight in abusing you whenever the opportunity presented, gave her your name. There you have it! Does that absolve me of having abused your beauty? I can think of several occasions when I told myself, although no one else, my true belief in your attractiveness – I believe I thought you one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance. Am I forgiven?"

"Most certainly, Sir, you are absolved but only on condition that you forgive me for my insults. Truly, I believe you have much, much more to forgive than I on this score."

"Let us put this behind us, shall we? We both feel so very much different now that such words are, to me at least, meaningless."


	15. Chapter 15

**Return To Longbourn**

Elizabeth gazed out the window as her carriage rolled into Meryton on its route to Longbourn. It had taken more than a day to convince Darcy to allow her to return alone and a day in advance of his own arrival at Netherfield in order to discuss the courtship with her father - he had not written and she could not be sure that his concerns had been allayed by her own letter – and to inform her mother of the courtship – an event for which as much privacy as possible would be desirable.

Darcy would be arriving tomorrow along with Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam who had returned from Newcastle and intended to speak with Colonel Forster about Wickham. Darcy's concern about Wickham had induced him to send two armed outriders to accompany her uncle's carriage along with a maid as a companion for the trip. Both carriage and maid were to return to London immediately but she had been given to believe the outriders were to stop at Netherfield.

The passage of the carriage through Meryton attracted little more than cursory interest and within a scant quarter hour it was drawing up in front of the entrance to Longbourn. Her reception at home was most kind and more than once during dinner was Mrs. Bennet heard to say voluntarily, "I am glad you are come back Lizzy."

A week prior to her return the news had quickly circulated - the regiment was to remove to Brighton and it was now the last fortnight of the regiment's stay in Meryton, and all the young ladies in the neighbourhood were drooping apace. The dejection was almost universal. The eldest Miss Bennet alone had still been able to eat, drink, and sleep, and pursue the usual course of her employment. Very frequently had she been reproached for this insensibility by Kitty and Lydia, whose own misery was extreme, and who could not comprehend such hard-heartedness in any of the family. "Good Heaven! What is to become of us! What are we to do!" would they often exclaim in the bitterness of woe. The arrival of Elizabeth and her insensibility to this news grieved them both greatly, "How can you be smiling so, Lizzy?"

Their affectionate mother shared all their grief; she remembered what she had herself endured on a similar occasion, five and twenty years ago. "I am sure," said she, "I cried for two days together when

Colonel Millar's regiment went away. I thought I should have broken my heart."

"I am sure I shall break mine," said Lydia.

"If one could but go to Brighton!" observed Mrs. Bennet.

"Oh, yes! - If one could but go to Brighton! But papa is so disagreeable."

"A little sea-bathing would set me up forever."

"And my aunt Philips is sure it would do me a great deal of good," added Kitty.

Such were the kind of lamentations resounding perpetually through Longbourn House. Elizabeth tried to be diverted by them; but all sense of pleasure was lost in shame. She felt anew the justice of Mr. Darcy's objections; and never had she before been so much disposed to pardon his interference in the views of his friend. But the gloom of Lydia's prospect was shortly cleared away; for she received that very day an invitation from Mrs. Forster, the wife of the Colonel of the regiment, to accompany her to Brighton. This invaluable friend was a very young woman, and very lately married. A resemblance in good humour and good spirits had recommended her and Lydia to each other, and out of their three months' acquaintance they had been intimate two.

The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, her adoration of Mrs. Forster, the delight of Mrs. Bennet, and the mortification of Kitty, are scarcely to be described. Wholly inattentive to her sister's feelings, Lydia flew about the house in restless ecstasy, calling for everyone's congratulations, and laughing and talking with more violence than ever; whilst the luckless Kitty continued in the parlour repining at her fate in terms as unreasonable as her accent was peevish. "I cannot see why Mrs. Forster should not ask me as well as Lydia," said she, "though I am not her particular friend. I have just as much right to be asked as she has, and more too, for I am two years older."

In vain did Elizabeth attempt to reason with her, and Jane to make her resigned. As for Elizabeth herself, this invitation was so far from exciting in her the same feelings as in her mother and Lydia, that she considered it as the death-warrant of all possibility of common sense for the latter; and detestable as such a step must make her were it known, she could not help but plan to secretly advise her father not to let her go.

Her father had said very little to her since her return and Elizabeth had seen that he looked upon her with a worried countenance and thus she was not surprised to receive a summons from him later that evening. She suspected that his concerns were for the courtship and felt confident of allaying his fears in that regard; she was less sanguine that he could allay her concerns about Lydia travelling to Brighton. After sitting down she observed her father walking about the room, looking grave and anxious. "Lizzy," said he, "what are you doing? Are you out of your senses, to be accepting a courtship from this man? I have read your letter but admit to finding it difficult to credit what you wrote. Have not you always hated him?"

How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had been more reasonable, her expressions more moderate! It would have spared her from explanations and professions which were exceedingly awkward to give; but they were now necessary, and she assured him, with some confusion, of the change in her opinion of Mr. Darcy.

"Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be sure, and you may have fine clothes and fine carriages. But will they make you happy?"

"Have you any other objection," said Elizabeth, "than your belief of my indifference?"

"None at all. I once believed him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man - although my opinion was much improved following his visit - but this would be nothing if you really liked him. I do not need to tell you that courtships almost invariably lead to a proposal of marriage. Your mother's distress at your refusal of Mr. Collins will be nothing compared to that which will arise if you refuse Mr. Darcy."

"I do, I do like him," she replied, with tears in her eyes, "I have come to esteem him very much. Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do not know what he really is; pray do not pain me by speaking of him in such terms. He has not asked to marry me, but I cannot believe I would refuse him when he does so."

"Lizzy," said her father, "I have given him my consent to the courtship and will do likewise if he makes you an offer. He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything, which he condescended to ask. I now give it to you, if you are resolved on having him. But let me advise you to think well on it. I know your disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor respectable, unless you truly esteemed your husband; unless you looked up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life. I would have you know what you are about."

Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn in her reply; and at length, by repeated assurances that Mr. Darcy was really the object of her choice, by explaining the gradual change which her estimation of him had undergone, relating her absolute certainty that his affection was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of several weeks and much contemplation of their past encounters which greatly revised her opinion of them, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities, she did conquer her father's incredulity, and reconcile him to the potential match.

"Well, my dear," said he, when she ceased speaking, "I have no more to say. If this be the case, he deserves you. I could not part with you, my Lizzy, to any one less worthy. When he does ask for your hand, be assured that my consent and blessing will be given."

Elizabeth's mind was now relieved from a very heavy weight; and, had now but to address the matter of Lydia's trip to Brighton. She put aside her fatigue; the travel, the arguments about Brighton with Lydia and her mother and the discussion with her father about her courtship, had sapped her reserves and she wanted nothing more than to remove herself to her room to rest. Nevertheless, this was not an issue that could be deferred and so she began. She represented to her father all the improprieties of Lydia's general behaviour, the little advantage she could derive from the friendship of such a woman as Mrs. Forster, and the probability of her being yet more imprudent with such a companion at Brighton, where the temptations must be greater than at home. He heard her attentively, and then said, "Lydia will never be easy till she has exposed herself in some public place or other, and we can never expect her to do it with so little expense or inconvenience to her family as under the present circumstances."

"If you were aware," said Elizabeth, "of the very great disadvantage to us all, which must arise from the public notice of Lydia's unguarded and imprudent manner; nay, which has already arisen from it, I am sure you would judge differently in the affair."

"Already arisen!" repeated Mr. Bennet. "What, she obviously has not frightened away your lover. Has she frightened away Jane's? Poor little Jane! But do not let her be cast down. Such squeamish youths as cannot bear to be connected with a little absurdity are not worth regret. Come; let me see the list of the pitiful fellows who have been kept aloof by Lydia's folly."

"Not of mine father but, having heard from Mr. Darcy, can you be unaware of the impact on Mr. Bingley's sisters and its effectiveness in dissuading him in his attentions? And it will not be Mr. Bingley alone; should Mary or Kitty or even Lydia wish to make an advantageous marriage in the future their suitors may well be disinclined to pursue an attachment because of the possible disgrace that could arise. I have personally no such injuries to resent, it is of general evils which I am now complaining. Our importance, our respectability in the world, must be affected by the wild volatility, the assurance and disdain of all restraint which mark Lydia's character. Excuse me - for I must speak plainly. If you, my dear father, will not take the trouble of checking her exuberant spirits, and of teaching her that her present pursuits are not to be the business of her life, she will soon be beyond the reach of amendment. Her character will be fixed, and she will, at sixteen, be the most determined flirt that ever made herself and her family ridiculous. A flirt, too, in the worst and meanest degree of flirtation; without any attraction beyond youth and a tolerable person; and from the ignorance and emptiness of her mind, wholly unable to ward off any portion of that universal contempt which her rage for admiration will excite. In this danger Kitty is also comprehended. She will follow wherever Lydia leads. Vain, ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled! Oh! My dear father, can you suppose it possible that they will not be censured and despised wherever they are known, and that their sisters will not be often involved in the disgrace?"

Mr. Bennet saw that her whole heart was in the subject; and affectionately taking her hand, said in reply, "Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever you and Jane are known, you must be respected and valued; and you will not appear to less advantage for having a couple of - or I may say, three - very silly sisters. We shall have no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not go to Brighton. Let her go then. Colonel Forster is a sensible man, and will keep her out of any real mischief; and she is luckily too poor to be an object of prey to anybody. At Brighton she will be of less importance, even as a common flirt, than she has been here. The officers will find women better worth their notice.

Let us hope, therefore, that her being there may teach her own insignificance. At any rate, she cannot grow many degrees worse without authorizing us to lock her up for the rest of her life."

With this answer Elizabeth could not be content; and while she was reluctant to do so, since it may well worry her father unnecessarily, she could not hide from him that Wickham had almost approached her in London. She therefore revealed to her father – of which he had not been previously apprised - Wickham's presence in London and the efforts of Mr. Darcy and Colonel Forster to apprehend, unsuccessfully so far, George Wickham.

"My concerns, father, are that Lydia will be not so well protected and indeed, given her nature, less inclined to accept protection if under the care of the Forsters. In this I believe I may be supported by Mr. Darcy. Mr. Wickham will be more easily able to approach her there and I know not what his intentions might be but I believe we should fear the worst."

Her father's immediate reaction was of anger that news of this situation had been withheld from him and he was not readily appeased by her intentions – or those of his Brother Gardiner – of their intent to only spare him such distress as might be expected to arise. Since he, from his daughter's information, expected Mr. Darcy to arrive before Lydia was to depart, he chose – in the desire to spare himself such noise and disturbance as would likely arise should he rescind his approval – to defer such a decision until he could consult with that gentleman.

Had Lydia and her mother known the substance of her conference with her father, their indignation would hardly have found expression in their united volubility. In Lydia's imagination, a visit to Brighton comprised every possibility of earthly happiness. She saw, with the creative eye of fancy, the streets of that gay bathing place covered with officers. She saw herself the object of attention to tens and to scores of them at present unknown. She saw all the glories of the camp; its tents stretched forth in beauteous uniformity of lines, crowded with the young and the gay, and dazzling with scarlet; and to complete the view, she saw herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly flirting with at least six officers at once. Had she known that her sister sought to tear her from such prospects and such realities as these, what would have been her sensations? They could have been understood only by her mother, who might have felt nearly the same. Lydia's going to Brighton was all that consoled her for the melancholy conviction of her husband's never intending to go there himself. But they were entirely ignorant of what had passed; and their raptures were to continue, with little intermission, until Mr. Darcy's arrival in Hertfordshire.

After taking leave of her father and enjoying an hour's quiet reflection in her own room, she was able to join the others with tolerable composure. Everything was too recent for gaiety, but the evening passed tranquilly away; there was no longer anything material to be dreaded and the comfort of ease and familiarity would come in time.

When her mother went up to her dressing-room at night, she followed her, and made the important communication. Its effect was most extraordinary; for on first hearing it, Mrs. Bennet sat quite still, and unable to utter a syllable. Nor was it under many, many minutes that she could comprehend what she heard; though not in general backward to credit what was for the advantage of her family, or that came in the shape of a lover to any of them. She began at length to recover, to fidget about in her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder, and bless herself.

"Good gracious! Lord bless me! Only think! Dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought it! And is it really true? Oh! My sweetest Lizzy! How rich and how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you will have! I am so pleased - so happy. Such a charming man! - So handsome! So tall! - Oh, my dear Lizzy! Pray apologize for my having disliked him so much before. I hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Everything that is charming! A daughter married! Ten thousand a year! Oh, Lord! What will become of me? I shall go distracted."

This was enough to prove that her approbation need not be doubted: and Elizabeth, rejoicing that such an effusion was heard only by herself, soon went away. But before she had been three minutes in her own room, her mother followed her.

"My dearest child," she cried, "I can think of nothing else! Ten thousand a year, and very likely more! 'Tis as good as a Lord! And a special licence. You must and shall be married by a special licence. But my dearest love, tell me what dish Mr. Darcy is particularly fond of, that I may have it tomorrow."

It was that Mrs. Bennet had, within a matter of minutes, convinced herself that a courtship was but a short step to an engagement and was inclined to consider the latter as a matter of course before Elizabeth could recall her to the fact that an offer of marriage had yet to be made. This was a sad omen of what her mother's behaviour to the gentleman himself might be; and Elizabeth found that, though in the certain possession of his warmest affection, and secure of her relations' consent, there was still something to be wished for. She feared her mother's machinations and resolved to enlist Jane's assistance to ensure that her mother's desire to create an opportunity for a proposal to be made did not involve too great an impropriety. But as it happened the morrow was to pass off much better than she expected; for Mrs. Bennet luckily stood in such awe of Mr. Darcy that she ventured not to speak to him, unless it was in her power to offer him any attention, or mark her deference for his opinion.


	16. Chapter 16

**Bingley's Return**

An article of news – of no surprise to Elizabeth who had made her father only acquainted with it -began to be in circulation. The housekeeper at Netherfield had received orders to prepare for the arrival of her master, who was coming down in a day or two, to shoot there for several weeks. Mrs. Bennet was quite in the fidgets. She looked at Jane, and smiled and shook her head by turns.

"Well, well, and so Mr. Bingley is coming down, sister" (for Mrs. Phillips first brought her the news). "Well, so much the better. Not that I care about it, though. He is nothing to us, you know, and I am sure I never want to see him again. But, however, he is very welcome to come to Netherfield, if he likes it. And who knows what may happen? But that is nothing to us. You know, sister, we agreed long ago never to mention a word about it. And so, is it quite certain he is coming?"

"You may depend on it," replied the other, "for Mrs. Nicholls was in Meryton last night; I saw her passing by, and went out myself on purpose to know the truth of it; and she told me that it was certainly true. He comes down on Thursday at the latest, very likely on Wednesday. She was going to the butcher's, she told me, on purpose to order in some meat on Wednesday, and she has got three brace of ducks just fit to be killed."

Miss Bennet had not been able to hear of his coming without changing colour. It was many months since she had mentioned his name to Elizabeth; but now, as soon as they were alone together, she said, "I saw you look at me to-day, Lizzy, when my aunt told us of the present report; and I know I appeared distressed. But don't imagine it was from any silly cause. I was only confused for the moment, because I felt that I should be looked at. I do assure you that the news does not affect me either with pleasure or pain. I am glad of one thing, that he comes alone; because we shall see the less of him. Not that I am afraid of myself, but I dread other people's remarks."

Elizabeth had not spoken to Bingley before her departure for Longbourn though his arrival had been vouchsafed to her and she thought him still partial to Jane. She knew him to be coming – Darcy had revealed as much to her prior to her departure - on his own determination, to discover the depth of her sister's feelings for him.

"Yet it is hard," she sometimes thought, "that this poor man cannot come to a house which he has legally hired, without raising all this speculation! I will leave him to himself."

In spite of what her sister declared, and really believed to be her feelings in the expectation of his arrival, Elizabeth could easily perceive that her spirits were affected by it. They were more disturbed, more unequal, than she had often seen them. The subject which had been so warmly canvassed between their parents, about a twelvemonth ago, was now brought forward again.

"As soon as ever Mr. Bingley comes, my dear," said Mrs. Bennet, "you will wait on him of course."

"No, no. You forced me into visiting him last year and promised, if I went to see him, he should marry one of my daughters. But it ended in nothing, and I will not be sent on a fool's errand again."

His wife represented to him how absolutely necessary such an attention would be from all the neighbouring gentlemen, on his returning to Netherfield.

"'Tis an etiquette I despise," said he. "If he wants our society, let him seek it. He knows where we live. I will not spend my hours in running after my neighbours every time they go away and come back again."

"Well, all I know is that it will be abominably rude if you do not wait on him. But, however, that shan't prevent my asking him to dine here, I am determined." She then cast a look at Elizabeth, "He will most probably bring Mr. Darcy as well, will he not Lizzy?" and without giving her daughter time to respond continued, "We must have Mrs. Long and the Gouldings soon. That will make fourteen with ourselves, so there will be just room at table for them both."

Consoled by this resolution, she was the better able to bear her husband's incivility; though it was very mortifying to know that her neighbours might all see Mr. Bingley, in consequence of it, before they did. As the day of his arrival drew near, "I begin to be sorry that he comes at all," said Jane to her sister. "It would be nothing; I could see him with perfect indifference, but I can hardly bear to hear it thus perpetually talked of. My mother means well; but she does not know, no one can know, how much I suffer from what she says. Happy shall I be, when his stay at Netherfield is over!"

"I wish I could say anything to comfort you," replied Elizabeth; "but it is wholly out of my power. You must feel it; and the usual satisfaction of preaching patience to a sufferer is denied me, because you have always so much."

Mr. Bingley arrived. Mrs. Bennet, through the assistance of servants, contrived to have the earliest tidings of it that the period of anxiety and fretfulness on her side might be as long as it could. She counted the days that must intervene before their invitation could be sent; hopeless of seeing him before. But on the morning after his arrival in Hertfordshire, she saw him, from her dressing-room window, enter the paddock and ride towards the house.

Her daughters were eagerly called to partake of her joy. Jane resolutely kept her place at the table; but Elizabeth, to satisfy her mother, went to the window - she looked - she saw Mr. Darcy with him and another gentleman dressed in regimentals, and sat down again by her sister.

"There are two gentlemen with him, mamma," said Kitty; "who can they be?"

"Some acquaintances or other, my dear, I suppose; I am sure Mr. Darcy must be one of them."

"La!" replied Kitty, "one of them looks just like that man that used to be with him before. Mr. what's-his-name. That tall, proud man."

"Good gracious! Mr. Darcy! - And so it does, but of course, he has come to call on Lizzy, I vow. I wonder who the other gentleman is? Well, any friend of Mr. Bingley's will always be welcome here, to be sure."

"I wonder if the other gentleman is Colonel Fitzwilliam," said Elizabeth.

Both sisters were uncomfortable enough. Each felt for the other, and, of course, for themselves; and their mother was unable to talk on; her dislike of Mr. Darcy had lasted no longer than the news he was courting Elizabeth, but she had not yet fully grasped the news that her daughter was being courted by a man of ten thousand a year which was quite putting into disorder altogether any thoughts her mind might harbour.

The colour which had encompassed Elizabeth's face was enhanced within a half a minute with an additional glow, and a smile of delight added lustre to her eyes, as she thought of how much their separation of but a few days had made her miss his company. This was, she knew, his final hurdle. His treatment of and manner towards her parents and sisters would prove whether the changes he had made were such as to persist even with those with whom he would prefer not to associate.

"Let me first see how he behaves," said she; "it will then be early enough for expectation."

She sat intently at work, striving to be composed, and without daring to lift up her eyes, till anxious curiosity carried them to the face of her sister as the servant was approaching the door. Jane looked a little paler than usual, but more sedate than Elizabeth had expected. On the gentlemen appearing, her colour increased; yet she received them with tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behaviour equally free from any symptom of resentment or any unnecessary complaisance.

With no little pleasure Elizabeth saw that Bingley and Darcy were accompanied by Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was introduced to them all by Darcy. Elizabeth said as much to them all as civility would allow, and sat down again to her work, with an eagerness which it did not often command. She had ventured only one glance at Darcy. He looked serious, as usual; and, she thought, more as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, than as she had seen him in London. But, perhaps he could not in her mother's presence be what he was before her uncle and aunt. It was a painful, but not an improbable, conjecture. Bingley, she had likewise seen for an instant, and in that short period saw him looking both pleased and embarrassed. He was received by Mrs. Bennet with a degree of civility which made her two daughters ashamed. Her reception of both Darcy and the Colonel was quite civil, more so than the former gentleman had ever received before. Darcy greeted her mother, quietly expressing his pleasure in meeting her once more. She, in return, hardly knew how to respond – the news of the courtship had left her oddly bereft of conversation in his presence.

Both Darcy and the Colonel greeted Elizabeth with evident pleasure and she and Darcy were not long in recapturing their easy manner with each other. The Colonel's attention was quickly claimed by Lydia and Kitty who, in their usual bold manner, attempted to fix his interest on them to the exclusion of anyone else. Fortunately, the Colonel was not inexperienced in such situations and was easily able to converse in a genial manner.

Elizabeth, remembering that her father wished to talk to Darcy, acquainted him of that fact and, as well, indicated that Lydia's safety was a concern. Darcy took the hint and collecting Colonel Fitzwilliam went directly to Mr. Bennet's study. They did not return for about a half hour and, in their absence, Elizabeth was in no humour for conversation with anyone but Darcy himself.

"It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away," said Mrs. Bennet.

He readily agreed to it.

"I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People did say you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood, since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled. It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married," continued her mother, "but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very hard for the Lucases to have her taken such a way from them. They are gone down to Hunsford a place quite southward, it seems, and there they are to stay I do not know how long. I am sure Mr. Collins is hoping it to be a short duration. At least Lady Lucas has a daughter who will do her duty to her family." At this Mrs. Bennet remembered that Elizabeth was being courted by Mr. Darcy who was of much greater consequence than Mr. Collins and abruptly ended her complaint.

Elizabeth was in such misery of embarrassment that she could hardly keep her seat. It drew from her, however, the exertion of speaking, which nothing else had so effectually done before; and she asked Bingley whether he meant to make any stay in the country at present. A few weeks, he believed.

"When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley," said her mother, "I beg you will come here, and shoot as many as you please on Mr. Bennet's manor. I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and will save all the best of the coveys for you."

Elizabeth's misery increased, at such unnecessary, such officious attention! Were the same fair prospect to arise at present as had flattered them a year ago, everything, she was persuaded, would be hastening to the same vexatious conclusion. At that instant, she felt that years of happiness could not make Jane or herself amends for moments of such painful confusion.

However she received soon afterwards material relief, from observing how much the beauty of her sister re-kindled the admiration of her former lover. When first he came in, he had spoken to her but little; but every five minutes seemed to be giving her more of his attention. He found her as handsome as she had been last year; as good natured, and as unaffected, though not quite so chatty. Jane was anxious that no difference should be perceived in her at all, and was really persuaded that she talked as much as ever. But her mind was so busily engaged, that she did not always know when she was silent.

When Darcy and the Colonel returned, they remained to converse for only a few minutes before rising to go away, Mrs. Bennet was mindful of her intended civility, and they were invited and engaged to dine at Longbourn the next evening. "You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley," she added, "for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us, as soon as you returned. I have not forgotten, you see; and I assure you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement."

Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said something of his concern at having been prevented by business. They then went away. Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and dine there that day; but, though she always kept a very good table, she did not think anything less than two courses could be good enough for a man on whom she had such anxious designs, or satisfy the appetite and pride of one who had ten thousand a year.

Elizabeth, as the gentlemen were making their departure, rose and taking Jane by the hand accompanied them outside, hoping to speak, if only briefly, with Darcy. In this she was successful as the other two gentlemen moved away to speak with Jane, allowing the courting couple a few moments of privacy. Darcy's smile was warm as he raised Elizabeth's hand to his lips. "We cannot talk now but I will call after luncheon tomorrow and perhaps we can go for a walk and I will let you know all that has transpired."

"Can you say why the Colonel is here?"

"He has come to speak to Colonel Forster and assist in the search for Wickham."

Elizabeth nodded and watched him mount and ride away, not moving to return indoors until he was lost from sight. As she did so, she realized Jane had come to stand beside her, having done much the same in respect of Bingley.

"Now," said Jane, "that this first meeting is over, I feel perfectly easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never be embarrassed again by his coming. I am glad he dines here on Tuesday. It will then be publicly seen that, on both sides, we meet only as common and indifferent acquaintance."

"Yes, very indifferent indeed," said Elizabeth, laughingly. "Oh, Jane, take care."

"My dear Lizzy, you cannot think me so weak, as to be in danger now?"

"I think you are in very great danger of making him as much in love with you as ever."

Upon their return to the parlour they were greeted with lamentations from both Lydia and her mother who had just been advised by Mr. Bennet that he had rescinded his permission for Lydia to visit to Brighton. Pressed for reasons he informed them of concerns about Wickham and his intentions and that Lydia's safety could not be secured in Brighton.


	17. Chapter 17

**Dinners at Longbourn**

They were to see the gentlemen again the next evening; and Mrs. Bennet, in the meanwhile, was giving way to all the happy schemes, which the good humour and common politeness of Bingley, in half an hour's visit, had revived. It was to be a family dinner with only Mr. Bingley and his two guests as company.

Two of the gentleman arrived after luncheon – they were advised that the Colonel was meeting with Colonel Forster – and were, after a short stay in the parlour, induced by Elizabeth and Jane to walk to Oakham Mount. None of the younger Bennet sisters could be persuaded to join them and Elizabeth conceded to Mr. Darcy that their absence was not regretted by her, "After all Mr. Darcy, I have not been much in your company for several days and I find little pleasure in your absence nor any desire to share your company with anyone else."

"I cannot but be pleased to hear you say so Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth knew she must raise the issue of Mr. Bingley's return. She had no opportunity to do so before she left London, since he was to return there that very day. "Mr. Darcy, I see by Mr. Bingley's presence that you have spoken to him. I hope that – it appears that your friendship is intact."

Darcy walked in silence for a minute or so, "Yes, although he was exceedingly angry with me for a short while. He was most upset that I and his sisters concealed from him your sister's presence in London – that his sisters would behave so as to terminate their relationship with Miss Bennet after professing such a fond regard for her he found very distasteful and distressing. His anger at my interference did not last too long when I advised him to return to Netherfield."

"Did you speak of my sister's affections?"

Darcy hesitated before replying, "No…I spoke only that I might have been in error about her indifference. That I had assumed such from her manner, rather than allowing that her reserve would mask such feelings. I could not…I would not state that she returned his affections since I could not detect such from my past observations. I did suggest – strongly – that he satisfy himself on that matter with no recourse to the opinion of anyone else, since he would be best positioned to know them."

"Has he done so, do you think?"

"I believe he has. From my better observation, it is clear – now – that your sister holds him in great affection. That opinion I vouchsafed last night but I believe it but reinforced his own belief and that is what he should act on."

Elizabeth found no fault with his words and her smile indicated her approval quite clearly. Since she and Darcy tended to walk more briskly than the other couple, the separation between the couples grew to some fifty yards and she had recourse to glancing back at them to ensure that matters there were going well; and while, at first, it appeared that conversation between them was difficult, time and their natural inclinations appeared to have moderated the constraints between them and their discourse more easy as a result.

Satisfied that her sister was comfortable with Mr. Bingley's company, she turned her attentions to Mr. Darcy and soon they were in easy discussion of a book that they both had recently read – she, at his suggestion – and this discourse engaged them for much of the remainder of their walk. If they did not agree on all issues, their differences of opinion were such as to promote lively debate and, to Elizabeth's gratification, no small amount of teasing by both of them in the process.

By the time they had returned to Longbourn, it was but an hour or so to dinner and the gentlemen proposed to return to Netherfield to refresh themselves and collect Colonel Fitzwilliam in order to dine at Longbourn that evening. Elizabeth could tell, from Jane's manner, that her sister was well satisfied with the attentions from Mr. Bingley and found herself hoping he would offer for Jane. For herself, Elizabeth was now sure of her desire for Mr. Darcy to offer for her and was pondering how to apprise him of her feelings. She could not, she knew, be too forthright. That was not in her nature nor did she feel it appropriate to so blatantly apprised him of those feelings. No, she thought, I will simply continue to show my regard and allow him to decide when a proposal would be accepted. He must know by now how materially my affections have changed.

That evening the gentlemen returned to dine at Longbourn and when it came time to seat themselves, Elizabeth was surprised to see Mr. Darcy extend one elbow to Mrs. Bennet and the other to her to escort them to the table. Having seated Mrs. Bennet at one end, he claimed the seat on her right for himself and assisted Elizabeth to sit next to him. Bingley claimed the seat on Mrs. Bennet's left with Jane by his side. Mr. Bennet, long used to the presence of his eldest daughters sitting beside him, was forced to make do with Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mary with Lydia claiming the seat next to the Colonel and Kitty forced, with obvious discontent, to sit next to her sister Mary.

The meal that followed was one that Elizabeth would scarcely forget. It was not that either her mother or Lydia was less silly than was their wont but rather the presence of so much sense had rarely been encountered at the Bennet table. Placed as she was, Elizabeth wished to moderate – and perhaps shield Mr. Darcy from – her mother's effusions but found herself frequently distracted by the discussion that seemed to centre on the Colonel; however, her first thoughts were directed towards Mr. Bingley.

His behaviour to her sister was such, during dinner time, as showed an admiration of her, which, though more guarded than formerly, persuaded Elizabeth, that if left wholly to himself, Jane's happiness, and his own, would be speedily secured. Though she dared not depend upon the consequence, she yet received pleasure from observing his behaviour. It gave her all the animation that her spirits could boast; for she was in a cheerful humour. Satisfied now with her sister's situation, Elizabeth was disposed to concentrate on the discussion that was taking place between her mother and Mr. Darcy.

That he was not altogether comfortable with her mother was not to be wondered at but he did appear to be trying to converse amiably with her and in this he was amply aided by that lady's awe of his status and a desire to not offend him. Several topics of conversation were attempted between with little success until Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, "What a wonderful thing it would be for my other daughters if Lizzy were to marry you or Jane to marry Mr. Bingley! It would put them in the way of other wealthy men"

"How so, Mrs. Bennet?" said he.

"They would visit their sisters and meet such men then. Surely that would be a good thing for them, would it not?"

Elizabeth's embarrassment and her exclamation, "Mamma!" did not register with her mother, who simply waved it off and did not, to all appearances, disgust Mr. Darcy if his smile was any indication.

His response surprised both ladies, "Have you or your daughters experienced a London season, Mrs. Bennet?"

"No indeed. Mr. Bennet would not allow us to visit there. He dislikes London exceedingly and all of my girls have suffered for it. I am sure Jane would be married by now if she had a season in London!"

"It is an expensive task, to be sure. Many families can afford but one season for a daughter. As well, the expectations for a young lady in terms of manners and deportment are much greater than in the country."

"I am sure none could be so beautiful as my Jane and Lydia would surely attract a handsome gentleman."

"I have no doubt, madam that both your eldest daughters would do well in London. Their beauty and manners and comportment are exceptional. However..."

Mrs. Bennet, pleased at the commendation to Jane and Elizabeth, was not slow to detect that the gentleman had not included her other daughters in his commendation and his hesitation could not be ignored.

"However?" said she. "Why, I am quite convinced that my Lydia would be pursued by many wealthy gentlemen. She is pretty and lively, you see!"

Elizabeth watched as Darcy's countenance took on a more severe aspect and several moments passed while he deliberated. She knew him now well enough to understand that he was considering his next words carefully and wondered how he could address her mother further without giving offence. She had not long to wait as he finally directed his attention to her mother saying, "May I be honest, Mrs. Bennet?"

If Mrs. Bennet had a faint suspicion she would not really wish to hear what Mr. Darcy planned to impart to her, it was not reflected in either her manner or words, and seeing no reason to escape the revelation, "Of course, Mr. Darcy."

"Very well. First, I will admit that I spend little time in London and avoid many of those events to which you aspire. I much prefer the country; however, I am not ignorant of what transpires during the season, nor of that which is necessary for ladies to succeed there. I have several cousins you see who have come out in the past few years and their trials…their problems have not escaped my attention, since I must bring out my sister in a year or two."

"How old is Miss Darcy?" asked Mrs. Bennet.

"She is only sixteen, Mrs. Bennet."

"And she is not out? Why ever not? Lydia is but fifteen and she is out. She is very much sought after, you know."

"My sister will not be out for a year or perhaps two. It is…most young ladies do not enter London society until they are seventeen or even eighteen."

"I do not understand why that should be so, Mr. Darcy. Why Lydia…"

"Excuse me, Mrs. Bennet. I must apologize for interrupting but you must realize that London society and country society are quite, quite different."

Seeing the incomprehension on her face, he smiled slightly before saying, "Perhaps I can explain…or try to anyway. It is a reality that those ladies who are successful in a London season have attended a school to give them some part of an education and to teach them how to deport themselves in proper society and I can assure you, Mrs. Bennet, that such is quite necessary. I have numerous cousins, one of them the daughter of an earl and several others whose father bears a title, and all have two or three years of schooling. You wish your daughters to succeed in London society but such is unlikely unless they are schooled."

Knowing her mother's reverence for all things of the peerage, Elizabeth thought to assist Mr. Darcy's efforts, "Are those cousins being brought out by Countess _, Mr. Darcy?"

His quick, small smile as he turned in her direction revealed he had recognized her ploy, "Yes my aunt, the Countess, has been quite successful." Turning back to Mrs. Bennet, he added, "I would also note that families, bringing out their daughters, introduce the youngest into society only after the eldest are married. As an example, I suspect that Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth would be out if they were in London but your other daughters would be expected to wait. In the country it is acceptable for all to be out though perhaps not too young. Surely you would find it easier to find husbands for your daughters if you did not have to be concerned with all five at once?"

Elizabeth had sat in a rather dazed silence as this conversation had been carried on. That Mr. Darcy would be so forthcoming was one surprise; that her mother would be so restrained as to actually listen, another; and that Mr. Darcy could be so manipulative - because she realized that he had intended something of this nature when he entered the house. There was a practiced flow to his argument which suggested some premeditation on his part. From her mother's silence she took heart and was rewarded after a moment or two when she responded, "So you would recommend schooling for Mary, Lydia and Kitty?"

"I do not think Mary needs schooling but some time under the direction of an experienced companion like Mrs. Annesley, who is preparing my sister for her coming out, would be most advantageous. As for your two youngest, I believe a couple of years of schooling for Lydia and perhaps one for Miss Catherine would serve them very well indeed." He hesitated for a second or two before saying, "of course, this is not my prerogative - I am, perhaps most improperly, interfering in what is purely a family matter - and I am sure you and Mr. Bennet may have other intentions."

Mrs. Bennet remained silent for several minutes until Mr. Bingley made a comment in praise of the meal after which she was pleased to talk for some minutes on the preparation and selection of the dishes. Elizabeth captured Darcy's attention and his amusement at her questioning look disconcerted her once more, "What disturbs you, Miss Elizabeth?"

"What are you about with my mother?"

"About? We were simply discussing the advantages of a London season and the accomplishments that young ladies may require to be successful."

"It would appear to me that you and she are prejudging an answer to a question that has yet to be asked, sir!" Elizabeth whispered.

"True, although I prefer to think of it as addressing a problem before it arises." his murmur became even softer, "You may be assured of the question...the timing is in your hands...as is the answer but, if I can persuade your mother towards my suit, I should be happy to do so."

Elizabeth could not control her blush nor her desire to direct the conversation to a less personal topic but in her embarrassment could think of nothing to say and was saved only by Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley beginning to discuss a problem with one of the Netherfield tenants. Her attention, and perhaps that of the rest of the table, was however soon captured by an outburst from Lydia.

"I shall be very pleased to be going to Brighton. I shall find many beaus there amongst all the officers and perhaps a husband. Would it not be a great joke to be the first of my sisters to be married?"

Elizabeth was saved from rebuking her sister by a barking laugh from Colonel Fitzwilliam, "I would wish you well, Miss Lydia. You must know a great many majors or Colonels if you are thinking of marriage!"

"I know only Colonel Forster and Major Dixon, both of whom are married. There are other officers, are there not?"

The Colonel shook his head in bemusement, "You are obviously not aware of a saying in the army, Miss Lydia. It states that 'Lieutenants must not marry, Captains may marry, Majors should marry and Colonels must marry'."

Lydia was obviously puzzled, "Why should a Lieutenant not marry?"

Elizabeth could see the colonel schooling his features so as to hide his concern - his quick glance at Mr. Bennet suggested that her father should be addressing the issue rather than sitting with an amused look at his daughter's ignorance - before replying, "It's mostly a matter of income, Miss Lydia. Quite simply a Lieutenant is much too poor - unless he has an income quite apart from his army salary - to support a wife, let alone the family likely to ensue from a marriage. Even a Colonel - like myself - could not afford to keep you in the comfort that you now have. A Captain, for instance, earns but two hundred pounds per year. His wife will be fortunate to be able to hire a servant to help her. It is not an easy life, I can assure you. I have spoken to many such women and their life - between keeping a house, raising children, moving from one location to another every few months - is not one I would wish for my sister."

"But the balls! The parties!" cried Lydia.

The Colonel was remorseless, "There are parties and balls no doubt, but their income does not allow for new dresses or gowns and most are required to wear the same gown for several years. What does a new ball gown cost Miss Lydia? I confess I do not know."

Lydia thought, "I believe a decent gown might be had for about ten pounds but the best will cost much more."

"Well then, if you don't eat for a fortnight you might be able to buy such a gown. Of course, fainting from hunger at the dance will lessen its pleasures considerably I would think."

Lydia was finally silent. That the life of an officer's wife was so dismal overset all her expectations and it was not to be considered such a revision could be effected without some struggle and, even then, reluctantly. She was still to go to Brighton, she thought, but the joys of doing so had been reduced and since she had yet to enjoy any attention from a senior officer, the thoughts of a marriage had lost much of their attractiveness.

Elizabeth turned to Darcy, who had also been following the conversation, and whispered, "I must thank your cousin later for his cautions to my sister. This is the first time anyone has spoken so clearly to her on the matter. I cannot say if she will retain his warnings. She has ever been very silly."

"Perhaps she might be more reconciled to not going to Brighton after all. I believe your father plans to tell her later tonight."

"I hope you have returned to Netherfield when he does. I could wish to go with you. Lydia is not likely to be moderate in expressing her displeasure and will undoubtedly make all of our lives a misery for some days."

Elizabeth watched Darcy opened his lips to say something but evidently think better of it and, at the quirk of her eyebrow, said, "Are you planning to walk tomorrow morning, Miss Elizabeth?"

"I was."

"My correspondence now arrives at Netherfield around noon and I would wish to devote my afternoons to dealing with it so as to leave my mornings and evenings free to spend in your company. When do you walk?"

"I prefer to walk for an hour or two before breakfast." She thought briefly before offering, "You could join me then, if you wish, and take breakfast with us. I rather suspect my mother will wish me and Jane to stay near the house after breakfast in the event we have callers." she grinned at him, "She is rather overwhelmed at the news of our courtship but not so much as to neglect her duty to inform all of our neighbours of her good fortune as often as possible. And she would certainly not wish to be deprived of the opportunity to display such a handsome suitor – perhaps two - whenever possible."

Darcy's laugh stopped conversation around the table since no one, outside of Colonel Fitzwilliam, had ever heard him do so before and even the Colonel was surprised at the moderation of his cousin's reserve.

The gentlemen remained for an hour or so afterwards before departing and, upon their doing so, Mr. Bennet gathered his family in the parlour and proceeded to advise them of the sighting of Mr. Wickham in London and, more recently, Hertfordshire and the need for continued precautions. When he stated that concerns over protecting his family had decided him against allowing Lydia to travel to Brighton, the lamentations and expressions of displeasure of his youngest daughter exceeded any that the family had previously experienced. It is a truth universally acknowledged that the removal of a pleasure is felt the more keenly the greater the anticipation that had attended it. In this case Lydia spared no one in expressing her unhappiness to such an extent that even her mother grew quite irritated with her youngest daughter and removed to her room. Since Mr. Bennet had long since sought refuge in his study, it befell her other sisters to suffer her displeasure for a further quarter hour until she had quite exhausted herself and removed to her room in tears.

On Tuesday there was a large party assembled at Longbourn; and the two, who were most anxiously expected, to the credit of their punctuality as sportsmen, were in very good time. When they repaired to the dining-room, Elizabeth eagerly watched to see whether Bingley would take the place, which, in all their former parties, had belonged to him, by her sister. Her prudent mother, occupied by the same ideas, forbore to invite him to sit by herself. On entering the room, he seemed to hesitate; but Jane happened to look round, and happened to smile: it was decided. He placed himself by her.

Darcy upon entering was immediately greeted by Mrs. Bennet and, since Elizabeth had been seated but one seat removed from her mother, chose with no hesitation to sit between them with apparent complacency. Elizabeth leaned towards him and murmured, "I commend your forbearance, Mr. Darcy."

"Nonsense, Miss Elizabeth. Your mother and I had a most interesting discussion the last time. Haply we will do so again."

To Elizabeth's surprise, Colonel Fitzwilliam chose to sit opposite Darcy on Mrs. Bennet's left hand and responded to Elizabeth's quizzical look with a bland smile which caused her to turn back to Darcy whispering, "What are you and your cousin about, Mr. Darcy?"

"About, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Am I to believe that you both chose to sit beside my mother purely by chance, sir? I think not!"

"No…not by chance, I grant you. I felt that should your mother wish to discuss a London season, my cousin – the son of an earl – might express opinions that would carry much weight."

"Ah, I begin to understand. This is a nefarious plan to keep Lydia and Kitty away from London," teased Elizabeth.

"You misunderstand me once again. This is a nefarious plan to get them educated to where they can be presented with some hope of success, Miss Elizabeth. Should we marry; they will become my sisters will they not? And, if they are my sisters, would I not wish, if possible, to be able to present them to my friends and acquaintances?"

Elizabeth was inclined at first to question his presumption of marriage, although clearly he had said 'if' and not 'when' but instinctively realized that this was not the relevant issue and instead replied quietly, "I must then thank you for your efforts. Georgiana has always said you were the best of brothers and I realize how true that is."

She watched his face colour slightly and could not resist a small tease, "You must get used to compliments because you will assuredly get many from me."

"I suppose it will take some time – perhaps years – for you to render those compliments?"

Now Elizabeth felt her own cheeks flush and could only murmur, "Perhaps."

Looking up she realized that she and Darcy had become the focus of several pairs of eyes amongst which the most amused belonged to her father and Colonel Fitzwilliam. A quirk of her eyebrow at her father only led him to smile and shake his head before turning back to speak to Jane who sat on his right hand. Turning her attention to her mother she listened with some amusement as Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke warmly about the demands of the London social scene. Her mother's attentiveness increased when he began to mention the expectations that gentlemen there had in terms of the ladies they chose to court. It was, she thought, a rather indelicate subject for discussion, but her mother was not, she knew, particularly subtle and one needed to be rather forthright if one wished to penetrate the recesses of her understanding. Lady Lucas, who sat beside the Colonel, was listening to the discussion with a mixture of amusement and interest. No doubt, Elizabeth thought, this whole discussion will be the subject of considerable gossip in the days to follow.

Before she realized it, the dinner was completed and the ladies removed to the parlour where, as she expected, Elizabeth was the object of much advice and questioning in regards of her courtship. She could only hope that her answers were both sufficiently vague and informative as to satisfy both her desire for privacy and the interest of her questioners. She could also only hope that the gentlemen would not delay overly long at the port and cigars and that she and Darcy would enjoy a few quiet minutes together, although the presence of so many people seemed to make that unlikely.

The gentlemen came; and she thought he looked as if he would have answered her hopes; but, alas! The ladies had crowded round the table, where Miss Bennet was making tea and Elizabeth pouring out the coffee, in so close a confederacy that there was not a single vacancy near her which would admit of a chair. And on the gentlemen's approaching, one of the girls moved closer to her than ever, and said, in a whisper, "The men shan't come and part us, I am determined. We want none of them; do we?"

"I cannot answer for you, but I most certainly want Mr. Darcy's company."

Despite hearing her words, Darcy had walked away to another part of the room. She followed him with her eyes, envied everyone to whom he spoke, had scarcely patience enough to help anybody to coffee; and then was enraged against herself for being so silly before calling Mary to take her place and crossing the room to offer him a cup of coffee and stand by him.

"What has caused you to look rather pensive, Mr. Darcy?"

He cast his eyes around the room and pursed his lips, "I should apologize. I did not wish to discuss the matter in such a public setting."

Elizabeth could see that something was truly bothering him and tentatively offered, "Perhaps we could take a bit of air in the garden for a few minutes?" and upon his agreement, went to retrieve her shawl and gloves and met him by the front door where they slipped out into the garden arm-in-arm with, she hoped rather than believed, only one or two pairs of eyes noticing their removal. While the daylight had gone, there remained enough light for her to see his troubled countenance.

"Mr. Darcy, you must tell me what worries you so lest I become quite vexed with you." Her playful tone seemed to alleviate his mood and it was with a half smile, almost a grimace she thought, that he responded, "You are…you have become quite adept in reading my moods, Miss Elizabeth."

"And you, sir, are not answering my question."

"Ah, well…your neighbour…..young Mr. Goulding?"

"Robert?"

"Yes, Robert…he was out riding this morning checking the fencing that borders his property and the Lucas property. He spied a rider some distance off. He could not be certain – he was too far away - but he thought it was Wickham; but when he attempted to close the distance, the other rider moved off and disappeared. From Gouldings' description I also believe it to be Wickham."

"Oh dear!" Elizabeth thought for a few moments, "This is not good is it?"

"No indeed. I have warned your father and we will continue our precautions. We have to assume it is Wickham. Your sisters must also be warned. They cannot venture out unaccompanied by a groom or footman."

"How long must this go on? We cannot live with this threat forever, surely?"

Darcy turned and took both her hands in his, "Do not be alarmed. We will run him down and now that we know he is here, it should prove easier to do so. My cousin plans to request that Colonel Forster assign some men to him to begin a more active search."

Elizabeth could see his concern for her written clearly on his face and echoed in his voice and could not but respond gently, "I have every confidence in you and your cousin, Mr. Darcy."

Removing her gaze from his she began to walk slowly on the garden path, thinking of what to say to change their mood, "I do not wish to think more on Mr. Wickham now. Let us think of a happier subject. There is to be an Assembly next week; I trust you will be attending?"

"Do you doubt me, madam? If so, let me allay such doubts now. How many dances are there to be?"

"Eight, I believe!"

"Then I shall insist upon your dancing the first, the …fourth and the last with you."

"Three dances, Mr. Darcy? And you so very much dislike the activity!"

"Only with partners with whom I am not acquainted. And since we are, I shall insist on those dances. Besides, you are in my debt for two dances."

"In your debt, Mr. Darcy?"

"Of course! Have you forgotten that you refused to dance with me twice? I have not and shall reclaim them at this assembly."

"I did? I do not recollect doing so."

"Indeed you refused me at the Lucases and then when you were staying at Netherfield to nurse your sister."

Elizabeth was silent for several seconds trying to remember the incidents he had mentioned and could only, with some difficulty, recall them at all, "I did not think you really wished to dance in either instance, Mr. Darcy!"

"In that you were quite mistaken; but I think we should probably return inside. The air is quite cool and I would not wish you to get chilled."

When they returned indoors they found the tea-things were being removed, and the card tables placed, the ladies all rose, and Elizabeth was then hoping to be soon joined by him, when all her views were overthrown by seeing him fall a victim to her mother's rapacity for whist players, and in a few moments after seated with the rest of the party. She now lost every expectation of the pleasure of his conversation and they were confined for the evening at different tables, and she had nothing to hope, but that his eyes were so often turned towards her side of the room, as to make him play as unsuccessfully as herself.

Mrs. Bennet had designed to keep the three Netherfield gentlemen to supper; but their carriage was unluckily ordered before any of the others, and she had no opportunity of detaining them.

"Well girls," said she, as soon as they were left to themselves, "What say you to the day? I think everything has passed off uncommonly well, I assure you. The dinner was as well dressed as any I ever saw. The venison was roasted to a turn—and everybody said they never saw so fat a haunch. The soup was fifty times better than what we had at the Lucases' last week; and even Mr. Darcy acknowledged, that the partridges were remarkably well done; and I suppose he has two or three French cooks at least. And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look in greater beauty. Mrs. Long said so too, for I asked her whether you did not. And what do you think she said besides? "Ah! Mrs. Bennet, we shall have her at Netherfield at last.'' She did indeed. I do think Mrs. Long is as good a creature as ever lived—and her nieces are very pretty behaved girls, and not at all handsome: I like them prodigiously. And Lizzy, I grow to like Mr. Darcy the more I see him. He shall do famously well for you I am sure."

Mrs. Bennet, in short, was in very great spirits; Mr. Darcy's attentions to Elizabeth she had quite come to accept as to make an engagement a certainty and she had seen enough of Bingley's behaviour to Jane, to be convinced that she would get him at last; and her expectations of advantage to her family from two such matches, when in a happy humour, were so far beyond reason, that she was quite disappointed at seeing only Darcy there again the next day.

"It has been a very agreeable day," said Miss Bennet to Elizabeth. "The party seemed so well elected, so suitable one with the other. I hope we may often meet again."

Elizabeth smiled.

"Lizzy, you must not do so. You must not suspect me. It mortifies me. I assure you that I have now learnt to enjoy his conversation as an agreeable and sensible young man, without having a wish beyond it. I am perfectly satisfied, from what his manners now are, that he never had any design of engaging my affection. It is only that he is blessed with greater sweetness of address, and a stronger desire of generally pleasing, than any other man."

"You are very cruel," said her sister, "you will not let me smile, and are provoking me to it every moment."

"How hard it is in some cases to be believed!"

"And how impossible in others!"

"But why should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I acknowledge?"

"That is a question which I hardly know how to answer. We all love to instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth knowing. Forgive me; and if you persist in indifference, do not make me your confidante."


	18. Chapter 18

**A Proposal At Last**

Darcy's visits took on a certain regularity. He would arrive early, before breakfast, enjoy a long walk with Elizabeth, returning to breakfast with the Bennets and staying – walking with Elizabeth in the garden or playing chess with Mr. Bennet or sitting with Elizabeth as one or the other read aloud - until luncheon when he would return to Netherfield to deal with the volume of correspondence that seemed to follow him wherever he travelled. Mrs. Bennet was receiving callers who came on a regular basis to watch the process with no little interest and were not loath, on occasion, to intrude on the courting couple for conversation. In general, Elizabeth and Darcy bore such intrusions with goodwill, although Elizabeth could see that some of the visitors – particularly her Aunt Philips - strained Darcy's tolerance and, in such cases, she made an effort to shield him as much as possible. Darcy, the Colonel and Bingley would usually join the Bennets for dinner and visit with them for the evening, although Bingley was not infrequently invited to spend an evening with other families. Darcy was usually exempted from such entertainments unless the Bennets were invited also.

After one of these dinners, Mr. Bingley called again after breakfast the next morning. Darcy and Elizabeth were ensconced in Mr. Bennet's library. Bingley came in such very good time that the ladies – apart from Elizabeth - were none of them dressed. In ran Mrs. Bennet to her daughter's room, in her dressing gown, with her hair half finished, having called Elizabeth from the library and dragging her behind and crying out, "My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is come - Mr. Bingley is come. He is, indeed. Make haste, make haste. Here, Sarah, come to Miss Bennet this moment, and help her on with her gown."

"We will be down as soon as we can," said Jane; "but I dare say Kitty is forwarder than either of us, for she went up stairs half an hour ago."

"Oh! Hang Kitty! What has she to do with it? Come be quick, be quick! Where is your sash, my dear?"

But when her mother was gone, Jane would not be prevailed on to go down until accompanied by Elizabeth who was relieved to see Darcy sitting with Bingley in the front parlour. To Elizabeth's surprise, Darcy spoke up, "I think Elizabeth and I would enjoy another walk. Would Miss Bennet and Bingley care to join us? Perhaps a walk to Oakham Mount would please us all."

Bingley was quick to assent to the proposal and Elizabeth and Jane retrieved their bonnets, spencers and gloves and within minutes had set off on the walk. Mrs. Bennet, seeing Jane escorted by Bingley and Elizabeth by Darcy, made no effort to include Lydia or Kitty in the group in the hope that at least one of the couples might return to announce an engagement.

Darcy encouraged Elizabeth to walk at a much brisker pace than Jane and Bingley could maintain and within ten minutes a distance of some fifty yards separated the two couples. Elizabeth became concerned at the increasing separation, cast frequent glances back at her sister and was about to suggest that they slow their pace to let the others catch up, when Darcy said, "Do not worry, Miss Elizabeth. Bingley requested me, as I left for Longbourn, to suggest a walk and to afford him some privacy with your sister."

Elizabeth looked at him in surprise, "Does he mean to propose then?"

"He did not inform me of his intentions."

"Do you think he will?"

Darcy smiled, "I cannot say but I admit I have rarely seen him so enthusiastic!"

Elizabeth looked at Darcy and wondered at his thoughts and intentions. When would he offer her? He had stated that the timing was in her hands and she knew that, while she would not object to waiting a while longer, should he propose, she would accept his offer. She was not sure how he would know that she was ready or, should he need a sign from her, how to indicate her readiness. With these thoughts her mind was fully occupied and they walked in silence for some minutes until Darcy stopped and bid her look back at her sister and Bingley.

The faces of both, as they hastily turned round and moved towards Darcy and Elizabeth, would have told it all. Elizabeth could not but feel an effusion of joy for her sister and she began to hurry towards her. Within seconds Bingley was asking for and receiving congratulations from his friend whilst Jane, who could have no reserves from Elizabeth, where confidence would give pleasure, instantly embracing her, acknowledged, with the liveliest emotion, that she was the happiest creature in the world.

"'Tis too much!" she added, "by far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh! Why is not everybody as happy?"

Elizabeth's congratulations were given with a sincerity, a warmth, a delight, which words could but poorly express. Every sentence of kindness was a fresh source of happiness to Jane. But she would not allow herself to stay with her sister, or say half that remained to be said for the present.

"I must go instantly to my mother;" she cried. "I would not on any account trifle with her affectionate solicitude; or allow her to hear it from anyone but myself. Mr. Bingley is to go my father immediately. Oh! Lizzy, to know that what I have to relate will give such pleasure to all my dear family! How shall I bear so much happiness?"

She then hastened away to her mother who was sitting upstairs with Kitty; Bingley followed her into the house and sought an interview with Mr. Bennet. Elizabeth and Darcy, who were left by themselves, smiled at the rapidity and ease with which an affair was finally settled, that had given them so many previous months of suspense and vexation.

"And this," said Elizabeth to Darcy, "is the end of all your anxious circumspection! Of all his sister's falsehood and contrivance! The happiest, wisest, most reasonable end!"

"Yes, and I am glad that my friend and your sister can have reached such a happy conclusion. They will do very well together."

By the time they had entered the house and had settled comfortably in the parlour, they were joined by Bingley, whose conference with Mr. Bennet had been short and to the purpose."Where is your sister?" said he hastily, as he opened the door.

"With my mother upstairs. She will be down in a moment, I dare say."

He then shut the door, and, coming up to her, claimed the good wishes and affection of a sister. Elizabeth honestly and heartily expressed her delight in the prospect of their relationship. They shook hands with great cordiality; and then, till her sister came down, she and Darcy had to listen to all he had to say of his own happiness, and of Jane's perfections; and in spite of his being a lover, Elizabeth really believed all his expectations of felicity to be rationally founded, because they had for basis the excellent understanding, and super-excellent disposition of Jane, and a general similarity of feeling and taste between her and himself.

It was an evening of no common delight to them all; the satisfaction of Miss Bennet's mind gave a glow of such sweet animation to her face, as made her look more handsome than ever. Kitty simpered and smiled, and hoped her turn was coming soon; Lydia managed to conceal her unhappiness at a sister being married before her long enough to offer a tepid congratulation. Mrs. Bennet could not give her consent or speak her approbation in terms warm enough to satisfy her feelings, though she talked to Bingley of nothing else for half an hour; and when Mr. Bennet joined them at supper, his voice and manner plainly showed how really happy he was.

Not a word, however, passed his lips in allusion to it, till their visitors took their leave for the night; but as soon as they were gone, he turned to his daughter, and said, "Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy woman."

Jane went to him instantly, kissed him, and thanked him for his goodness.

"You are a good girl;" he replied, "and I have great pleasure in thinking you will be so happily settled. I have not a doubt of your doing very well together. Your tempers are by no means unlike. You are each of you so complying, that nothing will ever be resolved on; so easy, that every servant will cheat you; and so generous, that you will always exceed your income."

"I hope not so. Imprudence or thoughtlessness in money matters would be unpardonable in me."

"Exceed their income! My dear Mr. Bennet," cried his wife, "what are you talking of? Why, he has four or five thousand a year, and very likely more." Then, addressing her daughter, "Oh! My dear, dear Jane, I am so happy! I am sure I shan't get a wink of sleep all night. I knew how it would be. I always said it must be so, at last. I was sure you could not be so beautiful for nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw him, when he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought how likely it was that you should come together. Oh! He is the handsomest young man that ever was seen!"

Jane was beyond competition her favourite child. At that moment, she cared for no other. Her younger sisters soon began to make interest with her for objects of happiness which she might in future be able to dispense. Mary petitioned for the use of the library at Netherfield; and Kitty and Lydia begged very hard for a few balls there every winter.

Bingley, from this time, was of course a daily visitor at Longbourn; coming frequently before breakfast in company with Darcy, and always remaining till after supper; unless some barbarous neighbour, who could not be enough detested, had given him an invitation to dinner which he thought himself obliged to accept.

The next morning, as Darcy and Elizabeth were returning to Longbourn and breakfast, they espied Kitty sitting on the bench in the rose garden a little distance from the house, hugging herself and appearing to be in some distress. Elizabeth looked at Darcy in puzzlement before turning and hurrying to her sister.

"Kitty, whatever is the matter?"

Kitty made no answer, simply turning her face away and Elizabeth could see that she had been crying.

"Come Kitty, you must tell what has distressed you so!"

"Nothing! I am fine now!"

"Do not be silly! You have been crying! About nothing? I do not think so!" Elizabeth looked more closely at Kitty. Was she frightened? If so, perhaps a less aggressive approach was needed and she spoke with a softer voice, "Come Kitty. Has something or someone frightened you?" Suddenly a premonition struck Elizabeth, "Is it Mr. Wickham?"

At the mention of that name, the eyes of both Kitty and Darcy snapped to gaze at Elizabeth but only Kitty responded, "How did you know?"

"A guess, nothing more! But a correct one obviously."

Darcy finally interjected, "Miss Catherine, you must tell us what happened. I can assure you that no harm will come to you."

Kitty's eyes flickered between them before settling on her sister, "I…I was simply walking in our park, along…along the path that circles the pond. I had not intended to walk so far. I.."

"Were you not accompanied by a footman?" asked Elizabeth.

"I did not intend to be out of view of the house. I am sorry Lizzy! I simply did not realize where I was."

"What happened next?"

"Mr. Wickham stepped out on the path – not very far away – and spoke to me."

"What did he say, Kitty? Did he importune you? Did he harm you?" Elizabeth looked more closely at Kitty and could that her left arm was red, "He did! You arm is hurt!"

"I was so surprised to see him that I could not move for some seconds. He asked me to go with him and stepped towards me. I…I turned to run but he grasped my arm. Then he started to say something but we both heard people's voices – yours perhaps, I do not know – and he whispered that I should say nothing or else it would be worse for me. He let me go and I must have run here, although I was so frightened that I do not remember doing so." She rubbed her arm, "It does not hurt."

"You may have a bruise, I think. How long ago was this, Kitty?"

"Not more than a few minutes before you found me."

"Then it is possible you heard us talking." Elizabeth looked at Darcy who had been listening to Kitty's recital with intense interest and he, reading the question on her face, nodded and said to Kitty, "We…you must tell your father, Miss Catherine. Miss Elizabeth and I will go with you."

Kitty was, at first, not inclined to speak to her father; rather fearing his displeasure and censure but was, after a few minutes, convinced that her father would be more displeased if she did not reveal to him what had happened. As Elizabeth asserted once more, "We cannot hide this from papa, Kitty. I must tell if you will not. You must see that, surely!"

Kitty shortly conceded the point and, seconded by her sister and Mr. Darcy, related her misadventure to her father who, though displeased that she had forgotten to be accompanied as she should, understood that it was inadvertent and reserved his ire for Mr. Wickham, "The impudence of the man! To accost Kitty within our own park and so near the house." He glanced at Darcy who had acquired a thoughtful mien, "Mr. Darcy, some aspect of this matter puzzles you?"

"Your question or observation is rather pertinent. How did he get so close? I would have thought he would not risk it but it seems that we cannot relax our vigilance at all. I am afraid we must warn all your daughters once more"

And so it was that Mr. Bennet, a short while later, related to all the household what had transpired between Wickham and Kitty. He was quite satisfied that all of his daughters – save Lydia – viewed the matter with the appropriate amount of concern. Lydia's reaction achieved quite the opposite effect. That young lady rolled her eyes upon receiving the warnings and gave little evidence that she viewed the restrictions as anything more than a nuisance and the threat from Wickham as a joke. Pressed on the issue, she promised to abide by her father's dictates but neither Elizabeth or her father could place any confidence in her assurances.


	19. Chapter 19

**An Unwelcome Visitor**

One morning, about a week after Kitty's unfortunate misadventure with Wickham, as Bingley and the females of the family were sitting together in the dining room, their attention was suddenly drawn to the window, by the sound of a carriage; and they perceived a chaise and four driving up the lawn. It was too early in the morning for visitors, and besides, the equipage did not answer to that of any of their neighbours. The horses were post; and neither the carriage, nor the livery of the servant who preceded it, were familiar to them. It was not the Darcy carriage for certain as that gentleman had been detained at Netherfield on some urgent business and would not be calling for a half hour at least. As it was certain, however, that somebody was coming, Bingley instantly prevailed on Miss Bennet to avoid the confinement of such an intrusion, and walk away with him into the shrubbery. They both set off, and Mary quickly decamped to practice her music and Lydia was equally eager to remove to her bedroom claiming to be indisposed. The conjectures of Kitty and her mother continued, though with little satisfaction, till the door was thrown open and their visitor entered. It was announced to be Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

They were of course all intending to be surprised; but their astonishment was beyond their expectation; she was, of course, unknown to them all with the exception of Elizabeth. Her purpose in visiting must also, of necessity, be unknown to them all since no word of her coming had been sent. Elizabeth alone could have some suspicion of Lady Catherine's object in visiting and she anticipated little pleasure from it and hoped that nothing arose to delay Darcy's arrival.

Lady Catherine entered the room with an air more than usually ungracious, made no other reply to Elizabeth's salutation than a slight inclination of the head, and sat down without saying a word. Elizabeth had mentioned her name to her mother on her ladyship's entrance, though no request of introduction had been made.

Mrs. Bennet, all amazement, though flattered by having a guest of such high importance, received her with the utmost politeness. After sitting for a moment in silence, she said very stiffly to Elizabeth, "I hope you are well, Miss Bennet. That lady, I suppose, is your mother."

Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was.

"And that I suppose is one of your sisters."

"Yes, madam," said Mrs. Bennet, delighted to speak to a Lady Catherine. "She is my youngest girl but one who is upstairs. My eldest is somewhere about the grounds, walking with a young man who, I believe, will soon become a part of the family, and Mary is practicing her music."

After making a few inconsequential statements about the smallness of the estate's park, the small size of the sitting room and its inconvenience due to the location of the windows to which Mrs. Bennet responded most civilly and then inquired after the health of the Collinses to which she received an assurance as to their health.

Elizabeth now expected that she would produce a letter for her from Charlotte, as it seemed one possible excuse for her calling – the other she was in no hurry to have explored. But no letter appeared, and the certainty she felt as to her ladyship's intentions, increased. Mrs. Bennet, with great civility, begged her ladyship to take some refreshment; but Lady Catherine very resolutely, and not very politely, declined eating anything; and then, rising up, said to Elizabeth, "Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little wilderness on one side of your lawn. I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you will favour me with your company."

Mrs. Bennet suddenly remembered that her ladyship was aunt to Mr. Darcy and supposing her to be calling in respect of his courtship of Elizabeth; and wishing to extend her courtesies about it, interjected, "Your Ladyship is very kind. I cannot tell you how pleased we are that your nephew is courting our Lizzy. It is altogether delightful. Such a handsome young man and so very wealthy. I am sure you could wish to have such a gentleman courting your daughter. Mr. Collins was quite profuse in his praises of her. She did not accompany you, I gather. That is unfortunate since I am sure that she would have wished to speak with him and Lizzy. I do hope she is well! Your nephew is staying at Netherfield House. Are you planning to see him? I am sure he will be delighted to see you. He is such an amiable gentleman. And I am…"

Lady Catherine, unused to being required to listen to another speaker, sat down again, her countenance clearly expressing her displeasure at being addressed so familiarly. Gathering herself and glaring at Elizabeth, she interrupted, "Neither you nor your mother can be at a loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason of my journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I have come."

Elizabeth was saved from any effort to respond to a woman who was now more than usually insolent and disagreeable by her mother's taking on that obligation. How could I ever think her like her nephew? Elizabeth thought, as she looked in her ladyship's face.

Her mother, with unaffected astonishment, answered, "Indeed, your ladyship! I assume that you are here to visit Elizabeth and extend your blessing on a match between Elizabeth and your nephew. What other reason could call you here from Kent?"

"Mrs. Bennet," replied her ladyship, in an angry tone, "you ought to know, that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere you may choose to be, you shall not find me so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of this supposed courtship" and her ladyship almost spat the word, "reached me several days ago. Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you."

Mrs. Bennet, who had been greatly affronted by her ladyship's tone, replied with equal anger, "Falsehood! Impossible? I think not Madam! Mr. Darcy applied to Mr. Bennet to court my daughter and has been doing so for some days now."

"Your Ladyship's belief in its impossibility" said Elizabeth, colouring with astonishment and disdain, "will not alter the fact that the courtship does exist. I wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. What could your ladyship propose by it?"

"At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted."

Mrs. Bennet was becoming increasingly affronted, "Contradicted! How can that be? We shall certainly not do so! What can you mean by this?" She cast a look at her daughter, almost beseeching her support.

"Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family," said Elizabeth coolly, "to obtain such a result as you have indicated will, unfortunately for your ladyship, be unrewarded."

"This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied. Has he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marriage?"

"Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible; however, it is the usual conclusion to a courtship, is it not?"

"It ought not to be so; it must not be so in this instance, while he retains the use of his reason. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You may have drawn him in."

"If I were such a person, do you think I would own to it?"

"Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world, and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns."

"But that does not entitled you to know mine; nor will such behaviour as this, ever induce me to be explicit."

Lady Catherine turned to Mrs. Bennet, saying, "Let me be rightly understood, Madam. This match, to which you and your daughter have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?"

Mrs. Bennet was growing increasing confused by the exchanges between her daughter and Lady Catherine and Elizabeth could see that this last statement had upset her greatly and forestalled her mother's response, countering, "Only this; that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will make an offer to me."

Before Mrs. Bennet could marshal her thoughts on the matter, Lady Catherine, after hesitating briefly, replied, "The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy, his mother and I planned the union: and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be accomplished in their marriage, is it to be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the family! Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends? To his tacit engagement with Miss De Bourgh? Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say that from his earliest hours he was destined for his cousin?"

Mrs. Bennet finally gasped, "What is she saying, Lizzy? Is Mr. Darcy already engaged? How could he be courting you, if he is engaged to another?"

Elizabeth directed her attention to her mother who was visibly distraught.

"Mama, do not concern yourself. I have spoken to Mr. Darcy on this matter. He has given his assurances that he is bound by neither inclination nor honour to his cousin, Lady Catherine's daughter."

Turning back to Lady Catherine, Elizabeth struggled to control her disdain for her visitor from becoming too apparent.

"I had heard this story before. But what is it to me? I shall certainly not be kept from marrying your nephew by knowing that his mother and you wished him to marry your daughter. You both did as much as you could in planning the marriage. Its completion depended on Mr. Darcy and he has chosen not to comply with those plans. If I am his choice of a wife, why may not I accept him?"

"Because honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid it. Yes, Miss Bennet, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by his family or friends, if you wilfully act against the inclinations of all. You will be censured, slighted, and despised, by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned by any of us."

Mrs. Bennet could no longer be silent, "They would not be so foolish, surely? Censure, ignore a man of ten thousand a year and in possession of a fine estate? They would be mad to do so!"

"My mother has the truth of the matter. These would be heavy misfortunes indeed should they occur," replied Elizabeth. "But the wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine. I believe I can tolerate your neglect tolerably well. I suspect that you will find very few to join you and, I assure you, I will not repine the loss of those that do."

"Obstinate, headstrong…"

"Lady Catherine!"

All three ladies had been so absorbed in their disagreement that Darcy's entry into the room had gone unnoticed until his voice overrode his aunt's. All three gaped at him and, if the circumstances had been otherwise, he might have taken some amusement from the expressions on their faces; however, he had no thoughts other than to prevent his aunt from further abuses against Elizabeth and her family.

"Lady Catherine, you will cease this...disgraceful behaviour at once." he raised his voice as he saw his aunt about to speak, "No madam, you will be silent!"

Turning to Mrs. Bennet, he made a slight bow and asked, "Mrs. Bennet, may I have the use of the dining room to talk with my aunt?"

Gaining her assent, he turned to Elizabeth, "I will speak with my aunt."

Firmly placing his aunt's hand on his arm, he led her to the dining room and closed the door behind them. Mrs. Bennet's and Elizabeth's interest in their discussion was too great to not make some effort to overhear it and accordingly they found themselves standing in the hall outside the dining room. Neither of the room's inhabitants was inclined to moderate their tones and thus much of the conversation was easily understood. Lady Catherine wasted little time in making her opinions known to her nephew.

"She is an obstinate, headstrong girl! And I am ashamed of you! You are to understand that I came here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person's whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment."

Darcy's voice carried an overtone of amusement as he replied, "That will make your situation at present more pitiable; but it will have no effect on me. I am my own man, Aunt, and not subject to your wishes or dictates. Your brother cannot command me. He knows this well! If he cannot, on what basis do you believe that you can do so?"

"I will not be interrupted, Fitzwilliam. Hear me in silence. You and Anne are formed for each other. You are both descended, on the maternal side, from the same noble line; and, on the father's, from respectable, honourable, and ancient - though untitled - families. Your fortunes are splendid. You are destined for each other by the voice of every member of their respective houses; and what is to divide them? The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune. Is this to be endured! But it must not, shall not be. If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up."

"You are wrong on two counts, Aunt. I have already spoken to your brother on this matter. This union that you speak of is an illusion of your own and my uncle has stated as much to me. One the second count, I should consider that Miss Bennet and I occupy much the same sphere. I am a gentleman; she is a gentleman's daughter; in that we are equal."

"True. She is a gentleman's daughter. But who was her mother? Who are her uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition."

"Whatever her connections may be," said Darcy, "I do not object to them and, in several cases, feel myself to have been a worthy addition. In any event, if I do not object to them, they can be nothing to you."

"Tell me once for all, have you made her an offer of marriage?"

"It is, as you have been informed, a courtship. I have not made her an offer as yet but you can be assured, madam, that I intend to do so - as soon as I am firmly convinced she will accept it."

Outside the door, Mrs. Bennet squealed and Elizabeth, mortified at her mother's indiscretion, hushed her directly. Fortunately, Darcy and his aunt were too wrapped in their argument to have noticed.

Lady Catherine seemed could not be pleased at her nephew's statement. "I insist you promise me, never to enter into such an engagement?"

"I will make no promise of the kind. Lady Catherine, I insist you give over this importuning! I shall not be dissuaded from my course. You must realize that I will not marry your daughter under any set of circumstances. Insisting that I not offer for Miss Bennet will not change that fact. I will not marry Anne! You must accept that. I regret that I have not made my feelings explicitly known to you on this matter in the past. Perhaps I should have done so but I had no wish to distress either you or Anne and believed that my actions in not having offered for her would make you aware of my intentions. Apparently I was wrong. For that I do apologize."

"Fitzwilliam I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find you more reasonable. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I will ever recede. I shall not go away till you have given me the assurance I require."

"And I certainly never shall give it, Aunt. Allow me to say that the arguments with which you have supported this extraordinary application have been as frivolous as the application was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my character, if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these."

And he moved towards the door as if to lead his aunt from the room. Lady Catherine rose, remaining highly incensed. "You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of your family! Unfeeling, selfish man! Do you not consider that a connection with her must disgrace you in the eyes of everybody?"

"Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say. You know my sentiments."

"You are then resolved to have her?"

"Indeed I am, Lady Catherine! Indeed I am! I am resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any person connected or unconnected with me."

"It is clear then. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to obey the claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin yourself in the opinion of all your friends, and open yourself to the contempt of the world."

"Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude," replied Darcy, "have any possible claim on me, in the present instance. No principle of either would be violated by my marriage with Miss Bennet. And with regard to the resentment of my family, or the indignation of the world, if the former were excited by such a marriage, it would not give me one moment's concern - and the world in general would have too much sense to join in the scorn."

"And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve! Very well. I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Fitzwilliam, that this matter is over. I hoped to find you and Miss Bennet reasonable; but, depend upon it, I will carry my point."

Darcy stopped before opening the door and turned to his aunt and his tone was fierce, "You have not listened, Aunt. You never do! But you will listen now! Understand this, I shall marry Miss Bennet, if she will have me, and there is nothing you can do, no one for you to apply to, who will prevail against my wishes in this matter."

He opened the door and showed his aunt out. Elizabeth and Mrs. Bennet had retreated to the parlour but could hear Lady Catherine's representations until the closing of the front door blocked her voice. Elizabeth's wait did not last above another five minutes and, at the sound of a departing carriage, she hastened out to speak with him. Finding him pacing angrily in the garden, she approached him cautiously at once, concerned at his anger. She doubted not that Lady Catherine's remonstrations to him were more severe than to herself. He looked up at the sound of her footfall and immediately his face cleared, he walked quickly to her and took her hands in his.

"Never!" exclaimed he, "Never allow me to criticize your relations! Never!"

"Was it so dreadful then, Mr. Darcy?"

"I know not what my aunt said to you but to me spoke most insultingly of you. Unless she apologizes to you, I…we will have no further contact with her." He shook his head, "I gather your cousin informed her of our courtship which prompted her visit. What did she want of you? To break the courtship?"

Elizabeth was startled at the news of her cousin's involvement but quickly realized that Charlotte's family had likely written her of the news, from which it was but a short step to Lady Catherine. Her cousin would not have wasted any time making her acquainted with it. "Lady Catherine simply wanted my assurance that I would not enter into an engagement with you. That, I would not provide her." She hesitated slightly before continuing, "Will Lady Catherine's opinions carry weight with your family?"

"My aunt's opinions carry little weight within the family or anywhere else fortunately. You have been in her company and can appreciate how little enjoyment there is to be had in it. Richard and I are, I think, her only relatives who visit regularly and we are reluctant to spend more than a fortnight. My uncle – Richard's father and her brother – visits as rarely as possible. He bears a certain likeness to my aunt and possesses a full measure of her arrogance but he is a sensible man of some discernment and knows well how unreasonable she can be. He has never, to my knowledge, favoured the idea of a marriage between my cousin and myself. In truth, the whole idea was never mentioned until after my father's death, so the suggestion that my mother favoured the plan is, I believe, nonsense and a concoction of my aunt's."

Darcy turned a teasing eye on Elizabeth, "So, you would not give her your assurances that you would not enter an engagement with me. Is this correct, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth found herself unable to look at him and aware of a sense of nervousness. She had, by that admission, almost acknowledged that she would accept an offer of marriage from him. And he had declared most forcibly his intentions of doing so. Would he make that offer now? She knew her feelings and opinions of him well enough to know that such an offer would be accepted with pleasure should it be made. Unable to do more than nod her head, she began to return to the house which he did not prevent. Nor did he say more on the subject although her quick glance revealed a small satisfied smile on his face. She could not understand his reasons for delaying but neither was she inclined to press the point. She found his company altogether too enjoyable to wish for a diminution of it that might arise once an engagement was announced.


	20. Chapter 20

**Courting & A Letter from Mr. Collins**

The next morning, as she was going down stairs, she was met by her father, who came out of his library with a letter in his hand. "Lizzy," said he, "I was going to look for you; come into my room."

She followed him thither; and her curiosity to know what he had to tell her was heightened by the supposition of its being in some manner connected with the letter he held. It suddenly struck her that it might be from Lady Catherine; and she anticipated with dismay all the consequent explanations.

She followed her father to the fire place, and they both sat down. He then said, "I have received a letter this morning that has amused me exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought to know its contents. I knew that I had two daughters on the brink of matrimony and have obtained a full measure of enjoyment out of watching your suitor. Let me congratulate you on a very important conquest. Now I wish to share another source of amusement."

The colour now rushed into Elizabeth's cheeks when her father continued, "You look conscious. Young ladies have great penetration in such matters as these; but I think I may defy even your sagacity, to discover the name of the author of this letter. This letter is from a former admirer, Mr. Collins."

"From ! And what can he have to say?"

"Something very much to the purpose of course. He begins with congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my eldest daughter, of which, it seems, he has been told by some of the good-natured, gossiping Lucases. I shall not sport with your impatience, by reading what he says on that point. What relates to yourself is as follows."

"Having thus offered you the sincere congratulations of Mrs. Collins and myself on this happy event, let me now add a short hint on the subject of another; of which we have been advertised by the same authority. Your daughter Elizabeth, it is presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennet, after her elder sister has resigned it, and the chosen partner of her fate may be reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages in this land."

"This young gentleman is blessed, in a peculiar way, with everything the heart of mortal can most desire, - splendid property, noble kindred, and extensive patronage. Yet in spite of all these temptations, let me warn my cousin Elizabeth, and yourself, of what evils you may incur by a precipitate closure with this gentleman's proposals, which, of course, you will be inclined to take immediate advantage of."

"We know, of course, who this gentleman is. But now comes out the purpose of his letter."

"My motive for cautioning you is as follows. We have reason to imagine that his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not look on the match with a friendly eye."

"I gather Lady Catherine has already visited. Did she also relate her objections to the possible match? Was that the purpose of her visit?" He chuckled, "Was she attempting to convince you or Mr. Darcy that she would withhold her consent?"

Elizabeth tried to join in her father's pleasantry, but could only force one most reluctant smile. It was not a subject that could provide further amusement, the memory of her encounter with Lady Catherine was too fresh for that, "Indeed, she did – most forcibly. I am not surprised that our cousin would echo her concerns."

"Are you not diverted?"

"Oh! Yes. Pray read on."

"After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her ladyship last night, she immediately, with her usual condescension, expressed what she felt on the occasion; when it become apparent, that on the score of some family objections on the part of my cousin, she would never give her consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. I thought it my duty to give the speediest intelligence of this to my cousin, so that she and her noble admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not run hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned."

The rest of his letter is only about his dear Charlotte's situation, and his expectation of a young olive-branch. But, Lizzy, you look as if you did not enjoy it. You are not going to be Missish, I hope, and pretend to be affronted at such a report. For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn?"

"Oh!" cried Elizabeth, "I am excessively diverted. From our interview, Lady Catherine appears quite unprepared to accept Mr. Darcy's intentions no matter how explicit he is in stating them."

"Yes - that is what makes it amusing and so delightfully absurd! Much as I abominate writing, I would not give up Mr. Collins's correspondence for any consideration. Nay, when I read a letter of his, I cannot help giving him the preference over anyone else of my acquaintance."

She rather thought it was a day for letters as one glance at Darcy's mien and behaviour – how quickly she was learning to understand his moods, she thought – was enough to make her aware of his pensiveness and inattentiveness. Since he was receptive to taking a walk, they were shortly on a leisurely stroll with no particular destination in mind. To maintain the proprieties, Mary was walking some distance behind – reluctantly, Elizabeth knew, since her sister despised being separated from the pianoforte or her books during the day and neither could be available when walking – to afford them sufficient privacy to talk intimately.

They had walked for some few minutes and Darcy had remained obstinately silent, perhaps, Elizabeth thought, not even aware of his abstraction and inattention; so, she believed, some coaxing was called for and proceeded apace.

"Mr. Darcy, I wonder at your coming to Longbourn? You could have as easily ignored me at Netherfield."

Her teasing tone as much as her question demanded his attention and she was pleased to see a slight flush on his face. She smiled and, before he could respond, said, "Will you not share with me what has so obviously distressed you?"

Darcy slowly nodded, "I do apologize. I had not realized that…well, you are quite correct. I have been ignoring you but I assure you Miss Bennet that it was done most inadvertently." His smiled at her apologetically before continuing, "You see my aunt, Lady Catherine, wrote her brother the Earl, Lord _ when she returned to Rosings after meeting with us. I do not know specifically what she wrote but clearly she did not spare her expressions of displeasure and condemnation of you – and me as well – if the tone and manner of my uncle's letter is any guide."

"I had never expected Lady Catherine's approbation but had not thought much about how your other relatives would react. Is there aught to concern us?"

Once she might have interpreted Darcy's silence as indicative of a heavy concern for such opinions; however, now she was prepared to allow him to take the time to form his thoughts carefully. Of his intelligence she had no doubts; that he had considered this matter she knew – he had said as much himself – and also that he had resolved the matter to his own satisfaction. His expression of those thoughts and decisions she now knew would necessitate some thought. So she waited patiently and her patience was soon rewarded as he addressed her once more.

"I have been perhaps remiss in not contacting my uncle before this or in anticipating my aunt's actions. I did not think it necessary to do so until I was actually engaged. My aunt and uncle bear some similarities but he is, fortunately, much more sensible than she. Whereas she believes she can direct my actions – indeed that she has the right to do so -, he is quite aware that I am my own man and not accountable to him for my decisions. He apparently, however, saw no reason to question my aunt's disparagement of your character and background and, as a consequence, his letter expressed his dismay that I would attach myself to someone who was apparently so unsuitable. I can…I will disabuse him of these malicious lies. I had not expected him to view our match with favour. He has, over the years, been urging me to marry and mentioned several ladies that he considered suitable matches." Darcy gave Elizabeth a small grin, "None of whom, I may add, engendered the slightest interest from me."

His thoughtful air returned as he continued, "He will be disappointed I am sure but he is also quite practical and will not wish to sever ties with me which would happen should he oppose the marriage. He knows this well. We have disagreed before and he has not bent me to his will. On this matter he most assuredly will not."

"Mr. Darcy, I can understand that you would be angered but it seems to me that there is more to the matter than you have told me."

Darcy shook his head in consternation, "I am continually surprised how much you have come to know me Miss Bennet. I am, I admit, angered at my aunt's insults of you and that my uncle would accept and repeat them so casually. But even more I am greatly angered that they would think so little of me, of my judgement, to believe I would court a woman such as they have described. My aunt perhaps I can understand, but for my uncle to do so as well disappoints me. I had thought better of him. He will, I know, be greatly embarrassed when he finally meets you and learns how very wrong his suppositions were."

Elizabeth was silent for several minutes as they continued their walk and then, cautiously, broached a subject which had lain dormant in her thoughts for some days but now, she felt, must be voiced. That she had not done so before now was due mainly because it would only become a concern if they were to marry and that possibility had become increasingly likely – almost to the point of certainty. At the same time, she recognized that part of her reluctance to raise it was that doing so would expose and share those fears which she had never been willing to entrust to anyone – apart from Jane. Yet she knew that she should have no secrets from the man she was to marry and that she could trust in his understanding and acceptance.

Darcy must have become aware that she was bothered by some matter as he asked, "You are very quiet and you appear…pensive I guess is the most appropriate word. Will you not tell me what troubles you?"

"Indeed, I will. I am just trying to summon the courage."

"It must be a serious matter indeed if it discomposes Miss Elizabeth Bennet!"

Elizabeth awarded him a small smile for his attempt to tease her but did not allow herself to be distracted, "When I spoke with your aunt, I was quite decided in expressing my willingness to stand against anyone who would oppose our match. That has not changed but…"

"But?"

After several moments, she continued, "I would not wish to embarrass you or your family. I fear that I would lose your respect and your love should you think I have failed in some manner."

"Elizabeth" and his voice was almost a caress, "Elizabeth, do you think I have not already considered this? Of your abilities I have no doubts. I believe you will be an excellent Mistress of Pemberley. There will be a period of learning to be sure but I doubt it will take all that long. Those of my relatives whose opinion I value will be charmed by you. My friends – my true friends – as well. You would win them all over effortlessly with your charms, your beauty, your kindness and your wit. They will be as entranced with you as I."

Elizabeth felt as though she would weep and struggled to suppress her tears and, not trusting, herself to speak, simply nodded.

"Elizabeth, I believe my parents would have approved of you – loved you – when they came to know you. Theirs was a happy marriage and I am sure they would have wished the same for me."


	21. Chapter 21

**An Abduction**

Several days later Darcy and Elizabeth had accompanied Jane and Bingley to Netherfield Hall where Jane was to receive a tour of the house of which one day she was to be mistress. If the ostensible purpose was to review to the furnishings and furniture in order that she might consider which would require to be changed, in reality, both couples wished to escape, for an afternoon, Mrs. Bennet's desire to parade her daughter around the neighbourhood so as to share the happiness of her engagement with as many as possible. They had only managed to escape without Mrs. Bennet's insisting upon accompanying them by virtue of the fact she had taken a nap so as to be fresh for her triumphal tour later in the afternoon.

But escape they did and, after an hour touring the house, they had wandered outside to walk the paths of the Netherfield gardens. The couples had separated and Darcy and Elizabeth were so enjoyably engaged on a discussion of a Shakespearean play on which they held strong but opposing opinions that they were quite oblivious to their surroundings until a footman ran up gasping, "Mr. Darcy! Miss Elizabeth! Come quickly! An accident!"

Elizabeth first thought was that something had happened to Jane, "Jane? Has something happened to Jane?"

"No, ma'am. Miss Lydia!"

Elizabeth and Darcy looked at each other in amazement and immediately began running towards the house where they encountered Bingley and Jane coming around the other corner of the house and obviously as worried and confused as themselves. Hurrying inside they were informed by the butler that Miss Lydia had been carried upstairs to a bedroom and that the apothecary had been called. Elizabeth and Jane hurried to see their sister while Darcy and Bingley attempted to find someone who could tell them what had happened.

When Elizabeth and Jane entered the room, it was to find Lydia lying on the bed and crying and moaning in obvious discomfort. Mrs. Nichols, the Netherfield housekeeper, looked up as they approached and briskly stated, "She has a broken arm but no other serious injuries as far as I can determine."

"But what happened?" demanded Elizabeth.

"I cannot say, Miss Elizabeth. I cannot get two words of sense out of her. Something about Wickham and eloping but none of it makes much sense, I am afraid."

Elizabeth stopped in shock, "Wickham?" she gasped.

At Mrs. Nichols' nod, she attempted to control her thoughts. Her first instinct was to ensure privacy and, to this end, she thanked Mrs. Nichols for her help and assured her that she and Jane would care for their sister until the apothecary – Mr. Jones - arrived. Mrs. Nichols assented and directed the maid, who was cleaning Lydia's scratches, to return to her regular duties. As Elizabeth drew closer to Lydia she could see that the lower part of her left arm, cradled by her right hand, was bent at an unusual angle. As well, her dress was torn around the shoulder and the side of her face and upper arm badly scratched. Taking the cloth left by the maid she and Jane finished the job of cleaning the scratches, removing earth and gravel from the sores. Not wishing to do too much until the apothecary arrived, they satisfied themselves with laying clean cloths over the wounds.

Attempts to calm Lydia and find out what happened proved difficult; while her crying had lessened, she would not answer their questions at first – simply shaking her head when they pressed her more closely.

Finally, in exasperation, Elizabeth snapped, "Lydia, you will tell us eventually. Our father will not be satisfied with your silence! I suspect you have done something…tried to do something incredibly foolish! Eloping! Wickham!...Dear God, you were eloping with George Wickham?"

Lydia burst into a fresh torrent of tears but before Elizabeth could say more than, "You foolish girl! What have you…?" Mr. Jones entered the room, his displeasure at his patient being harangued evident in the glare he directed at Elizabeth.

She huffed and was silent for several minutes as he began his examination of Lydia. Finally, she could restrain herself no longer and, looking at Jane, said, "I am going down to find out what happened. You must stay with Lydia." And without waiting for Jane's agreement, hurried from the room and went looking for Darcy who, she was sure, had more information to share with her.

The butler directed her to the study where she found Darcy and Bingley listening to a man with whom she was quite unfamiliar. Seeing her enter the room, Darcy came to her asking, "Your sister, she will be well?"

"As well as one can be with a broken arm, I believe. She bears some scratches and bruises but nothing worse, I suspect. Mr. Jones and Jane are with her now. Can you tell me what has happened to her?"

"We are just finishing up talking to Brooks here. He found her and brought her to Netherfield. Let me finish with him and I will explain all." Saying which he led her to a chair beside him and asked Brooks several more questions. Satisfied as to the answers, he dismissed him and drew up a chair next to hers. Not waiting for his explanation, Elizabeth blurted, "Lydia would say nothing but eloping and Wickham. But how could she have come to be injured so?"

"That, I can explain but first, Brooks, whom you just met, is one of two grooms from Pemberley that I brought here to guard you and your sisters privately. I told no one, except your father and Bingley, about them and Bingley here had to be told since they stay here at Netherfield."

"Why the secrecy? Could I not have been told?"

"I could, and probably should, have told you but did not want to worry you unnecessarily which I thought you might do."

"I am not a child, Mr. Darcy! You do me no favours by hiding from me something which affects me so closely." Elizabeth realized that she had spoken too sharply and, after a brief pause, spoke in a softer voice, "However, I recognize the kindness of the intent and appreciate it."

"Well…Anyway, Brooks had followed your two sisters, Kitty and Mary, to visit your Aunt Philip and had dismounted and was watering his horse some distance away – your sisters were also accompanied by a groom who was waiting inside in the kitchen apparently. Anyway, as Brooks was watering his horse, a curricle came through Meryton at a very fast clip and was past Brooks before he fully realized who was in it; however, he recognized your sister, Lydia, and wondered at what she was doing. Failing to see an escort, he immediately became worried, mounted and gave chase. By this time the curricle was, according to Brooks, some quarter mile ahead of him but he was quickly able to overtake it and within a few minutes had closed to a hundred yards. As he was riding he could see you sister looking back and pointing at him and by the time he had closed to less than a hundred yards, the driver himself looked back. Brooks said that it looked to him that your sister was pushed out of the curricle as it was moving. As he passed her, he could see that she was injured. He admitted that he could have caught the curricle but felt it more important to help your sister and stopped his chase." Darcy spoke with some bitterness as he said, "That was obviously Wickham's intent, his hope, and he was able to escape – this time."

Elizabeth shook her head in bemusement, "It was Wickham, then?"

Darcy nodded, "Brooks could not be sure. The man was bearded but he states that Miss Lydia claimed it to be him. I think it unlikely, under the circumstances, to be anyone else."

"She chose to elope with Wickham? After all that has been said about that man! Did she believe none of it? Obviously not, but how did this come about? She must speak."

"I agree. Your father will be most seriously upset over this but…let me finish Brooks' tale." At her nod he continued, "Once he had returned to Miss Lydia, he found that she was unlikely to be able to walk due to the pain from her arm. He thought Netherfield was the closest spot to bring her and, since he did not think himself capable of carrying her that distance, he placed her on the back of his horse." Darcy grimaced, "He said he had never heard such a crying and whining in his life; but they made it safely and he said he was quite happy to turn her over to Mrs. Nichols while he waited to tell me of what had happened."

Bingley spoke up for the first time, "I do not understand why she would do such a thing."

Elizabeth ignored this comment and turning to Darcy asked, "Has a note been sent to my father?"

"No. I shall send one now. Brooks can deliver it quickly."

A note was written and sent off within minutes. Elizabeth and the two gentlemen remained in the study until Mr. Jones came to impart the news that Lydia had suffered no worse injury than a broken arm and some scratches. She would remain in bed for several days at least but was young, healthy and should heal quickly. He had administered a small dose of laudanum and left more should her arm pain her further. She was sleeping now and he recommended against moving her for a week at least.

Shortly after Mr. Jones had returned to his home, Jane joined them having ensured that Lydia was being attended by a maid. Mr. Bennet arrived a quarter hour later both confused and concerned. After being apprised of events, he immediately went to look upon Lydia but returned shortly to report that between laudanum and her distress she was hardly comprehensible. After some thought he indicated that he would prefer Elizabeth and Jane to return to Longbourn – for the sake of propriety – and would send Mary to nurse his youngest daughter. While both Elizabeth and Jane would have preferred to spend the evening in the company of their betrothed at Netherfield, they also realized that it would be most improper since there was no older lady to act as chaperone. Mr. Bennet departed for Longbourn in company with his two oldest daughters who were assured that their betrothed would journey there also for supper. Mr. Bennet had impressed upon his daughters that Mrs. Bennet should only be told that Lydia had suffered an accident while riding in a curricle. The circumstances and the name of the driver would be suppressed for the time being. That Lydia's accident would be the main subject of conversation during the meal was to be expected although Mrs. Bennet was diverted – to the satisfaction of all – to discuss the upcoming Assembly and waxed eloquent upon the pleasure of talk there of one daughter engaged and another courted by a most eligible suitor. That it would be a most suitable occasion to announce a second engagement was broadly hinted at, to the mortification of Elizabeth and the amusement of Mr. Bennet and, to Elizabeth's surprise, Mr. Darcy. However, when this topic had exhausted Mrs. Bennet's conjectures and effusions, Mr. Bennet had the happy thought to inquire as to where Jane's wedding clothes were to be purchased and the even happier thought to suggest that Meryton would be the appropriate location. To this Mrs. Bennet could not be persuaded and waxed long and eloquently on the benefits and superiority of venturing to London to acquire all the necessities. After dinner she remained so absorbed in the topic as to retire to her rooms to begin preparation of the list of items that would be most appropriate to a young lady marrying a man of five thousand a year.

If Mrs. Bennet could be so diverted, the remainder of their party could not; perforce Kitty had to be made aware of the essentials of what had transpired and pledged – on the forfeit of her allowance for a month – to secrecy on the matter. Since Lydia could, as yet, not be questioned as to the particulars of her presence in the curricle, they could only review such details as were known until she could be questioned the next day.

So it was that the next morning, shortly after breakfast, Mr. Bennet, Jane and Elizabeth were welcomed by Mr. Bingley at Netherfield. The betrothed couple were not long in finding themselves pleasantly engaged in touring the rooms of Netherfield, suitably chaperoned by Mr. Darcy and Mary, in order to assess what changes the future mistress might contemplate.

Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth were less enjoyably engaged in meeting with Lydia so as to find out how she had come to be in the curricle with Wickham. She, having been denied a further dose of laudanum – as expressly ordered by Mr. Bennet – was in some discomfort from her broken arm and the various bruises she had suffered. If the prime motivation for Mr. Bennet's direction had been a desire to have her coherent for their discussion, it may be also easily understood if he had felt little sympathy – and perhaps some satisfaction – in observing her discomfort. After her pleas for relief had been refused several times, she was finally given to understand that such would not be available until a full accounting for her actions was made. To this she reluctantly agreed – a circumstance which did little to comfort either of her questioners as to the probable propriety of such actions.

The discussion took the better part of an hour and such information as could be obtained was gleaned from a most reluctant subject. In essence, Lydia had not fully believed the warnings about Mr. Wickham; his handsome features and amiable manners having so recommended him to her that she was willing to accept his assurances that he was being most infamously treated by all and sundry and that Mr. Darcy, in particular, was quite prejudiced against him for reasons which he had previously related to her. She had met him, secretly, on several occasions and, on the last such occasion, been persuaded of his attachment to her and agreed to elope with him. Since that meeting had not been planned, she had not the opportunity to pack any clothing and thus they were - according to Lydia off to London to shop for the same before proceeding to Gretna Green to be married. She had thus accompanied Mr. Wickham quite willingly and the speed with which he had passed through Meryton had excited no thoughts in her other than pleasure and excitement. That he had become increasingly agitated she had noted but had not realized that it derived from the recognition of being pursued, until she herself had looked behind the curricle to note the rider who was giving chase. It had been clear – to her - that they were to be overtaken quite soon but she had been totally shocked to be suddenly thrust from the curricle by Wickham. Indeed he had struck her several times to ensure her departure and her fall had been quite awkward as she struck her head on the hard ground as she landed. Her disparagement of Mr. Wickham and his treatment of her were quite as vociferous as her previous commendations had been and she felt herself to be quite ill-used by the whole experience and quite unable to feel that her behaviour was wanting in any respect. With this, her father – and Elizabeth – were very much in opposition; and, if Mr. Bennet had any reservations about sending her to school to learn proper conduct, they were vanquished by her attitude.

Some few additional minutes were spent in convincing Lydia to claim that she had been forced into the curricle – her presence there could hardly be denied since she had been seen by half of Meryton. It took threats of banishment to a school in the north and no allowance for her to comprehend that Mr. Bennet was both serious and resolved to have his way before he was convinced that she would comply with his directives. Elizabeth, who had largely been silent throughout the interrogation - mortified by her sister's want of sense and propriety and, upon reflection, by the failure of both her parents in her sister's education – could find no words to either chastise or sympathize with Lydia and left the room as silently as she had entered it.

She and her father removed to the study, there to apprise Darcy of the circumstances of Lydia's involvement. He made no comment other than to approve of the measures that Mr. Bennet had taken and the cast of his countenance remained sombre throughout. Elizabeth found it almost impossible to look at him, her embarrassment extreme and the errant thought crossed her mind that he might be extremely reluctant to attach himself to such a family. Would he end their courtship as a result of Lydia's actions? It seemed likely, since he could not fail to attach great importance to preserving his family's name and reputation. Therefore it was with a mixture of trepidation and embarrassment that she agreed to his request to join him on a walk in the Netherfield gardens. Mr. Bennet, recognizing their need for privacy, did not require a chaperone provided they were in view of the house.

Darcy and Elizabeth walked silently out to the gardens and when Darcy placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, she felt a palpable sense of relief. He could not be considering ending their courtship if he acted so. Of that she was certain. How else he might feel about the issue, she could not ascertain but she was positive that he was angry; however, it did appear that her family was not necessarily the cause or source of that anger. So wrapped in her thoughts was she that his voice surprised her.

"You appear quite downcast, Miss Elizabeth. I realize that your sister's situation must be of a concern. I hope there is nothing else that concerns you."

Elizabeth forced herself to speak, "It is true that Lydia has been quite…successful in mortifying me. I had not thought her so foolish as this but, on reflection, she has been poorly instructed in proper behaviour."

"She is but fifteen, Miss Elizabeth. There has been no harm done this time and she has time to improve. I suspect the lesson will be taken to heart."

"I am not as sanguine as yourself. I did not hear from her any expression of regret or understanding of the impropriety of her actions."

"Schooling becomes even more important therefore."

"On that we may agree."

"Is there aught else to concern you?"

Elizabeth was reluctant to raise her concern and, after several moments, asked instead, "Why were you so sombre, so angry before?"

"Did I appear so? I am sorry." He shook his head, "I was angry at Wickham for his actions and at my failure to apprehend him before he could further harm your family. His actions yesterday caught me quite by surprise. I had not expected such precipitous actions from him. It was rather desperate now that I think on it. Quite unlike him."

"What shall you do now?"

"I have informed my cousin of what has happened and he apparently is quite active in his efforts to discover Wickham; however, as he has a horse and curricle at his disposal, the area he could be hiding is rather extensive which makes the search more difficult."


	22. Chapter 22

**An Assembly To Remember**

Despite the turmoil of the past week or so involving as it did Jane's engagement and the attempted elopement – although abduction might be the more appropriate word – of Lydia, who was now more discontented because of having to miss the Assembly on account of a broken arm than discomposed by the failure of that attempt, and seemed to still harbour an affection for Mr. Wickham, despite being treated so badly - the ladies of Longbourn had spent the best part of the afternoon preparing themselves for the occasion.

Elizabeth had managed to escape the house early in the morning, before her mother could rise and prevent her from doing so on the grounds that such an outing might lead to a cold or fever that would prevent her attendance at the Assembly, and possibly – Mrs. Bennet hoped – an offer of marriage from Mr. Darcy. As her mother had expressed peevishly more than once, he did appear rather slow to come to the point and Elizabeth's manners or behaviour must therefore, in some fashion, be lacking. Nevertheless, escape she did and was quickly joined by Darcy for a brisk walk of more than an hour before breakfast. Their pace, that day, was too brisk to admit of much conversation apart from brief mentions of the scenery. It was very much a beautiful late spring day and, as such, one to be enjoyed for itself alone.

Darcy had travelled to London the day before – leaving early and returning late. The purpose of the trip had not been disclosed, other than business, and Elizabeth had given it little thought since he had made several similar trips during his stay at Netherfield. This trip was no exception and her only thought was to the pleasure she experienced in having him with her once more. There had developed a comfort and easiness between them that she had never previously experienced – not even with her father – and if she was not as close to Darcy as she was to Jane, that was a matter she fully expected to change once they married. At the moment, her first loyalties remained with her family but once married, her husband and their family would command her loyalties above all others. This she knew intellectually, but was coming to understand that emotionally she was already transferring those loyalties to Darcy. Painful as it was to acknowledge, Darcy was a better man than her father in those respects which must matter to a women who was to be his wife. That she could, in so short a time period as a month, come to this realization had amazed her and she knew that somehow, even when disliking Darcy, she must also have been attracted to him and aware of some of his excellent qualities. However, she did not let her thoughts dwell overmuch on these matters as they walked, but forced her attention to remain on her surroundings, pointing out to Darcy, as they walked, objects or views which had significance to her as she grew up: the brook where she and Jane and a few of the neighbourhood children used to wade and catch frogs, trees she climbed, places where they picnicked during the summer and her favourite spot for seclusion when her family's foibles made such a necessity. Darcy listened and laughed with her, seeming to enjoy her pleasure in these reminisces, finally saying, "You know do you not, should we marry that I would never deny you your parents or their home. We would visit often and they will be welcome in our homes."

Elizabeth looked at him softly, "I know my mother tries you greatly but I do love her despite her faults. I…I thank you. I was sure that you would not deny me my family but it relieves my heart to know that I will see them."

Darcy was spared from answering as Longbourn came in view. Their approach did not go undetected and Kitty was shortly seen to hurry towards them exclaiming, "Lizzy, Mama wants you inside right now. She was most seriously displeased to find you had gone for a walk." Kitty laughed when Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I am just the messenger, Lizzy. Do not blame me!"

"Indeed, I do not." Elizabeth looked at Darcy, "Are you to join us for breakfast, Mr. Darcy?"

"I dare say I should. If I am there your mother may be less severe with you and I wish to speak to your father as well."

At Elizabeth's quizzical look, he simply shrugged saying, "Business, just business." However there was that about his manner – Elizabeth was not yet able to discern all his expressions – that suggested that the matter was not that simple but, apart from a suspicious glance, she declined to pursue it further and they very shortly joined the remainder of the Bennet family at breakfast. Darcy did indeed closet himself with Mr. Bennet for near a half hour and, when he rejoined Elizabeth and her sisters, could not be persuaded to reveal the nature of those discussions. Since Mrs. Bennet was convinced that preparations for the Assembly could not be satisfactorily completed unless they began immediately following luncheon, Darcy and Bingley – who had arrived shortly after breakfast - were required to return to Netherfield.

Darcy and Bingley had offered to convey the Bennets to the Assembly in their carriages – an offer which Mrs. Bennet was quick to accept since both were noticeably finer than that of the Bennets – and so Darcy and Elizabeth in company with Mr. Bennet and Kitty arrived in the Darcy carriage while the Bingley carriage provided a similar service for Mrs. Bennet, Jane, Mary and Bingley. Their entrance into the hall met with all of Mrs. Bennet's expectations as they were the centre of all eyes and quickly the subject of most conversations. While Mrs. Bennet had been assiduous in her efforts to ensure that all her neighbours were aware of her good fortune in acquiring a wealthy husband for Jane, the opportunity to further share her pleasure with them could not be too little valued. To see her two eldest daughters escorted to the dance floor by two such eligible suitors could only enhance such pleasures.

Elizabeth could not remember when, or if, she had enjoyed a dance more. She hardly spoke a dozen words with Darcy throughout. Neither felt the need to speak. If Darcy had been somewhat stiff and uncomfortable at the beginning of the dance – the intense interest that had been focussed on him and Elizabeth when they entered the hall had activated his natural reserve and Elizabeth's presence had only ameliorated it slightly – Elizabeth had quickly solicited his attention and, with his eyes captured by hers, his mien softened greatly. Discriminating observers were able to discern a slight smile on his lips and it was apparent to everyone that he viewed Elizabeth with affection. That lady's affections were even easier to read and any suggestion that her motives were mercenary was quite dispelled.

At Elizabeth's gentle urging, Darcy exerted himself to dance with other partners once his dance with Elizabeth was done. Jane and Kitty obliged him with pleasure although both were required to recall his attention as his gaze tended to drift to watch Elizabeth as she was being partnered in the dances. It was with no little relief that he claimed Elizabeth's hand for the fourth dance and, if Elizabeth wondered at his unusually nervous manner, she gave little thought to it since it affected his dancing abilities not at all. They had completed the first dance of the set when Darcy placed Elizabeth's hand on his arm and began to lead her towards one of the balconies looking out onto the terrace behind the building saying, "I feel a need for a small respite and fresh air. Would you oblige me, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth made no effort to conceal her surprise, "Where are you taking me, Mr. Darcy? I must speak with my father or mother first."

"I have already spoken with your father."

"You appear to have planned this, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth made no attempt to mask the amusement in her voice; however, if this initiative was for the purpose she suspected, the small frisson of anticipation that arose suddenly made her nervous. She was barely conscious of her surroundings until she felt the cooler air that greeted her as she stepped on to the balcony. That her anticipations were correct she quickly realized as Darcy turned her to face him and took her hands in his.

"Elizabeth, I started to fall in love with you last fall. From almost the first moments of our acquaintance I was bewitched by your liveliness, your intelligence, your kindness. I hardly was able to remove my eyes from you when you were in my presence. I admit I struggled against the attraction because you were not what I was expected to acquire in a wife and in that struggle I led you to misunderstand the attraction I felt. Yet the more I was in your presence, the more I realized you were exactly the woman I needed and wanted as my wife. You had just reason to question my character and behaviour. I hope – I believe - that I have amended those faults which you so correctly charged me with. I most ardently love you and would be honoured if you consented to become my wife."

Elizabeth could not help the smile that graced her face or the joy that was imbued in her voice as she quietly replied, "I have come to respect and love you very much and would be honoured to be your wife."

The happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eye, she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt delight, diffused over his face, became him; but, though she could not look, she could listen, and he told her of feelings, which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection every moment more valuable.

"Before we return to join your parents, there is one more thing I must do." said he and reaching into a pocket of his waistcoat retrieved a small box. "I would wish you to wear this ring – it was my mother's and was to be given to my betrothed upon our engagement." Opening the box he showed her a gold ring, elegant in its simplicity with a small diamond with two rubies on either side.

"It is beautiful! Perfect!" and Elizabeth could say no more as he removed the glove from her left hand and slipped the ring on. "My mother would have been delighted to see you wear this," said Darcy.

After he raised her hands to his lips, kissed each warmly and then tucked her hand onto to his arm and said, "I fear we must rejoin your parents. I have kept you an unconscionably long time."

"I am only sorry we must do so. I shall not tell my mother tonight – I fear the volume of her reaction." She paused, "You will, I gather, speak to my father tomorrow?"

"That is not necessary. This was the subject of our discussion early today. I sought his approval then and permission to address you tonight." He paused, "I believe he plans to announce our engagement before the last dance."

"Oh!"

"Are you displeased?"

"No, not at all. It just seems to have been taken out of my hands." She said with a slightly rueful smile.

"It need not be so. I can ask – we can ask your father to wait until tomorrow."

Elizabeth thought for a moment as they walked the perimeter of the hall and approached her father and mother, "No, let it be as you have planned. I was being a little missish I fear. And even if I was not, my father would not hesitate to lay the charge upon me." Her smile at him was missed by none of those who were watching their approach and her father's raised eyebrow was answered by a slight nod from both Darcy and Elizabeth. Even her mother seemed to have grasped what had happened and exclaimed, "Lizzy?"

Elizabeth murmured to Darcy, "I fear any circumspect announcement is no longer possible."

However Mr. Bennet, for once, restrained his wife placing a hand on her arm and a sharp whispered, "Mrs. Bennet!" recalled her to a sense of propriety. "I will make an announcement shortly, Madam. Please restrain your enthusiasms until I have done so."

Elizabeth hardly remembered the rest of the evening. The announcement was made and the couple received a multitude of congratulations – most of them sincere, although some obviously touched by envy and jealousy. Elizabeth was a popular object of affection for numerous young gentlemen and, if her poverty in dowry had precluded many of them for offering for her, the pleasantness and liveliness of her manner made her a popular partner in social settings. As for Darcy, the poor opinion that had been engendered during his first sojourn in Hertfordshire had been largely dissipated by his less reserved manners while courting Elizabeth. If he was still someone that was regarded with reserve, he was no longer actively disliked and when it became known that he had recovered all of Mr. Wickham's debts, his assurance of being greeted with pleasure in any of the shops in Meryton was beyond question. In short, they were in no doubt of the approbation that their engagement received.

Their final dance – the last of the evening – was danced in almost total silence. Neither felt the need to converse and such communication as did take place was by means of looks, smiles and lingering touches of the hands as they moved through the patterns of the dance. They parted, for the night, in complete and mutual sympathy.

Elizabeth slept very little that night – or rather – it was late before she was allowed to get any rest. Her mother's effusions could not be restrained with the prospect of two daughters so advantageously married and she returned to Elizabeth's bedroom twice to express her pleasure and to ensure that her daughter was aware of all that must be done to ensure that Mr. Darcy's commitment to the engagement did not waver. Jane, perhaps realizing her sister was too full of what had occurred and too beleaguered by their mother to converse with her, did not attempt to engage her in that late night talk which so frequently happened after an event of such magnitude.

Her mother, however, was not prepared to allow Elizabeth to recapture the sleep which she had been denied the night before and woke her several hours earlier than Elizabeth would have wished in order that she be dressed and ready to receive Mr. Darcy or those persons which Mrs. Bennet fully expected to call on Longbourn this morning. In this she was proven correct as many of those who had wished Elizabeth well the night before, called once more to extend their congratulations and hopefully be provided with those details which could form the substance of gossip for several weeks. Wedding plans, Mr. Darcy's income, the particulars of his estate, his carriages, townhouse and relatives were all worthy of discussion and repetition. If Elizabeth herself was of lesser interest, it could be attributed to the fact that she was well known to them and she had to be largely resigned to accepting their congratulations about capturing such a worthy husband and, if not a few mothers wondered how she did so, they kept such conjectures to themselves – at least in Mrs. Bennet's presence.

This was to be the pattern for several days. Darcy would arrive shortly after breakfast although Elizabeth was frequently not able to be much in his company as her mother demanded of both her eldest daughters to meet with the callers that were disturbing the tranquility of Longbourn. Darcy and Bingley found refuge on many occasions in Mr. Bennet's study, there to read, play chess or converse – all quietly.

Neither Darcy nor Bingley could escape some attentions from the many callers and, if Bingley bore it easily and displayed no obvious reluctance, Darcy bore it, at least, with admirable calmness. He could even listen to Sir William Lucas, when he complimented him on carrying away the brightest jewel of the country, and expressed his hopes of their all meeting frequently at St. James's, with very decent composure. If he did shrug his shoulders, it was not till Sir William was out of sight.

Mrs. Philips's vulgarity was another, and perhaps a greater, tax on his forbearance; and though Mrs. Philips, as well as her sister, stood in too much awe of him to speak with the familiarity which Bingley's good humour encouraged, yet, whenever she did speak, she must be vulgar. Nor was her respect for him, though it made her more quiet, at all likely to make her more elegant. Elizabeth did all she could to shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to keep him to herself, and to those of her family with whom he might converse without mortification; and though the uncomfortable feelings arising from all this took from the season of their engagement much of its pleasure, it added to the hope of the future; and she looked forward with delight to the time when they should be removed from society so little pleasing to either, to all the comfort and elegance of their family party at Pemberley.

After several hours of such scrutiny, Elizabeth usually managed to escape the house in company with Darcy, Bingley and Jane and wander for a while in their company. The two couples did separate to give the other privacy and despite the irritation that the morning's activities had engendered Elizabeth's spirits soon rising to playfulness again, she wanted Mr. Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. "How could you begin?" said she. "I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first place?"

"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."

"My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners - my behaviour to you was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?"

"For the liveliness of your mind, I did."

"You may as well call it impertinence at once. It was very little less. The fact is that you were sick of civility, of deference, of officious attention. You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking, and looking, and thinking for your approbation alone. I roused, and interested you, because I was so unlike them. Had you not been really amiable, you would have hated me for it; but in spite of the pains you took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always noble and just; and in your heart, you thoroughly despised the persons who so assiduously courted you. There - I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it; and really, all things considered, I begin to think it perfectly reasonable. To be sure, you knew no actual good of me - but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love."

"Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to Jane while she was ill at Netherfield?"

"Dearest Jane! Who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it by all means. My good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as may be."

By the time they had returned to Longbourn, it was to discover that Mrs. Bennet's exertions in regards to exclaiming the benefits to befall the Bennet family had quite worn her out and she had no choice but to retire to her chambers for a rest. This unexpected quietude was too precious to be ignored and those chores, such as letter writing, best undertaken in quiet could now be attempted.

Accordingly Elizabeth teased her betrothed, "Shall you ever have courage to announce to Lady Catherine what is to befall her?"

"I am more likely to want more time than courage, Elizabeth. But it ought to be done, and if you will give me a sheet of paper, it shall be done directly."

"And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you and admire the evenness of your writing, as another young lady once did. But I have an aunt, too, who must not be longer neglected."

Elizabeth had not attempted to keep Mrs. Gardiner fully informed as to the progress of the courtship and that lady had declined to inquire, knowing her niece would answer those unasked questions when she was ready to do so; but now, having that to communicate which she knew would be most welcome, she was almost ashamed to find that her uncle and aunt had already lost three days of happiness, and immediately wrote as follows:

"I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I ought to have done, for your long, kind, satisfactory, assistance to me but to say the truth, I was too hesitant to write – the fear of expressing my hopes only to have them dashed made me avoid expressing them on paper as though the thought, the fear would become a reality. But now suppose as much as you choose; give loose to your fancy, indulge your imagination in every possible flight which the subject will afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannot greatly err. You must write again very soon, and praise him a great deal more than you did in your last. I thank you, again and again, for your advice and guidance. I wonder that I could be so happy now without it! Your wish to go round the Park every day in a phaeton and ponies shall be a reality. I am the happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so before, but not one with such justice. I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh. Mr. Darcy sends you all the love in the world that he can spare from me. You are all to come to Pemberley at Christmas.

Yours',

Elizabeth"

Mr. Darcy's letter to Lady Catherine was in a different style; and still different from either was what Mr. Bennet sent to Mr. Collins, in reply to his last.

 _"Dear Sir,_

 _I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth will soon be the wife of Mr. Darcy. Console Lady Catherine as well as you can. But, if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He has more to give._

 _Your's sincerely, &c."_

The joy which Miss Darcy expressed, on receiving similar information, was as sincere as her brother's in sending it. Four sides of paper were insufficient to contain all her delight, and all her earnest desire of being loved by her sister.

Before any answer could arrive from Mr. Collins, or any congratulations to Elizabeth from his wife, the Longbourn family heard that the Collinses were come themselves to Lucas lodge. The reason of this sudden removal was soon evident. Lady Catherine had been rendered so exceedingly angry by the contents of her nephew's letter, that Charlotte, really rejoicing in the match, was anxious to get away till the storm was blown over. At such a moment, the arrival of her friend was a sincere pleasure to Elizabeth, though in the course of their meetings she must sometimes think the pleasure dearly bought, when she saw Mr. Darcy exposed to all the parading and obsequious civility of her cousin .


	23. Chapter 23

**Plans & More Courtin'**

The engagement having been made public, attention must then be directed to those practical matters of great import which precede a marriage: the date of the wedding must be canvassed, wedding clothes purchased, settlement papers drawn up and, to Mrs. Bennet's delight, neighbours given the opportunity to express their pleasure for her great, good fortune in having two daughters so advantageously married.

The date of the wedding was quickly resolved and, to Mrs. Bennet's dismay, the two couples agreed upon a joint wedding. If Mrs. Bennet was unhappy at losing the prospect of organizing two grand weddings which would amaze all of her neighbours, Mr. Bennet was not unhappy to be inflicted with all of the noise and turmoil of only half that number. However much distress Mrs. Bennet suffered in this regard, she was pleased and appeased that it was not to take place until mid-August or two months hence.

Elizabeth found the discussion of the marriage settlement much more disturbing. Darcy had sent the papers to Mr. Bennet who had then sought her Uncle Gardiner's advice. She had known that Darcy was a wealthy man but the extent of that wealth, when expressed on paper, had almost overwhelmed her. Then she had to absorb the amounts that he was proposing to settle on her in terms of an annual income – what her mother called her 'pin money' – and those amounts which would secure her future should he predecease her. That thought alone had discomposed her for several minutes. Her embarrassment with his generosity was equalled only by her distress at contemplating his death and both were severe. She strove to mask both although she questioned the effectiveness of her efforts when he smiled and shook his head at her. She thought the settlement to have covered all the necessary items in greater detail than she had anticipated. If her father and uncle were satisfied, so would she be.

Nevertheless, afterwards Darcy invited her to walk with him in the garden and almost as soon as they were able to speak privately he said, "Our discussion has unsettled you?"

His small play on words drew a smile from her.

"Not at all, Sir! I have simply quite settled it in my mind to ensure that you survive for a very long time!" she protested.

"Elizabeth, I know that… I could see that you were disturbed. Will you not tell me why you were distressed? And please, trust me that I will not be unhappy at anything you say."

"You can promise that, sir?" she teased.

"Well, at least not too unhappy and for a very short time." He responded with a matching smile.

"I simply find myself embarrassed at bringing so little to the settlement and at your generosity. I had not…I knew that you were rich. I had been aware of your ten thousand a year. If I had not, my mother would surely have dealt with my ignorance most satisfactorily. It had never been real, you see, and not really a factor in my thoughts. I knew you could provide for me and our children and I thought little more of the matter. But you have settled so much on me, and my allowance! How will I ever use it all? Do I need it?"

Darcy let the following silence persist for a minute or two before answering, "That is one of the reasons I have come to love you so much. To be valued as Fitzwilliam Darcy instead of for my income or Pemberley is…well I do not have the words to express how much I value your approbation and respect." He cleared his throat which had become suspiciously husky before continuing, "However, there are some very practical reasons for what has been settled on you. The first, and most important, is for my peace of mind."

"How is that a practical reason, William?" Elizabeth's interruption was accompanied by a quizzical glance up at him.

"Very simple, my dear. I would forever be worried about your well-being, your safety, your…well suffice it to say that I will rest more easily knowing that, should I be taken from you unexpectedly, you would be well cared for. I would not have you placed in a position where you wanted for anything."

"William, dearest, you know that in such circumstances, I would be lacking that which is most precious."

Darcy felt himself unable to continue this line of conversation and determinedly returned to the topic at hand.

"The other reasons are equally practical, I assure you. You will find that the demands placed on you as my wife will require an expansion of your wardrobe. I am not inclined much towards society but we will have to be more engaged than I have been in the past; we will have to entertain and be entertained. My friends, my family and even society in general, will wish to meet Mrs. Darcy. You will charm them I know but your task will be eased if they see you appropriately dressed. Besides, there are some family jewels that you should wear and while you would wear them with distinction even in the simplest and plainest gown, I daresay I will have trouble with my composure seeing you dressed in a most beautiful gown and adorned by the jewels."

"I see, so I am to dress to discompose you, sir?" she gave him a mock frown, "I find that idea rather…interesting."

Darcy cleared his throat once more, "Yes, well…" he laughed, "I am discomposed now…I almost dread my condition when…I fear I shall become a veritable fool."

Elizabeth made no effort to mask her grin but chose not to tease him further. He, after casting a glance at her, returned to their initial subject, his countenance more serious than previous and his voice taking on a slightly fierce tone.

"The last reason is that this is what my station in life demands of my wife or, perhaps better said, that society expects my wife to have. I will not let anyone think less of you or that I do not value you highly which they would most assuredly think, if I did otherwise. In truth, Elizabeth, that I have provided so well for you is a testament to society of how much you mean to me. This I will tell you now. To the extent that it is within my power, you shall never have cause to doubt that I will do whatever is necessary to protect you and our family."

Elizabeth found herself bereft of words, stopped and placing a hand on his chest, placed the gentlest of kisses on his cheek. Her intent to step back and resume her place by his side was prevented as she suddenly found herself being most firmly embraced by Darcy. Resting her face against his chest some minutes later, she realized how enjoyable and comforting it was; however, her pleasure was all too soon ended, by a distinct cough sounding behind her and Darcy's arms had relinquished their hold in response. Her father's voice was redolent with amusement as he gently chastised them both.

"Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy…I would ask you to observe the proprieties. Mrs. Bennet's nerves could not withstand the sight. I fear she might insist on your being married immediately."

Elizabeth could not resist teasing her father, although her blushes were obvious to both men, "You leave me with an easy choice, Papa. To distress my mother and wed quite soon; or not, and suffer her attentions until I am wed in August!"

Both men began to chuckle although Mr. Bennet, mindful of the rather hopeful look in Darcy's eye, quickly shook his head. "It will not do, Lizzy, delightful as the thought may be for you both and, indeed, for myself. So please, humour your old father and avoid a repetition of such…activities."

Later that evening Darcy approached her with a proposal that had won her immediate support – not least because it would remove her and Jane from the tumult of her mother's wedding plans. He had proposed that she and Jane, in company with her mother, travel to London for two weeks to buy their wedding clothes and then – after Mrs. Bennet returned to Longbourn to organize the wedding – the two betrothed couples in company with Georgiana and the Gardiner family would travel to Pemberley for three weeks returning to Longbourn a fortnight before the wedding. The Gardiners had intended to tour the lakes that summer, although the exigencies of Mr. Gardiner's business had shortened the amount of time they could spend travelling and they had, as a result, thought to limit themselves to touring Derbyshire and visiting Mrs. Gardiner's acquaintances in Lambton where she had lived until her marriage about ten or twelve years previous.

Bingley's and Jane's support was quickly sought and received, Mr. Bennet applied for his consent, which was given most reluctantly since he could not be pleased to lose his two most sensible daughters so early. Only murmurings from Elizabeth about Gretna Green wrung a final consent from him and he insisted that his daughters would have to be responsible for informing Mrs. Bennet of their plans. A rapid exchange of letters with the Gardiners settled the matter to everyone's satisfaction except Mrs. Bennet who, upon being told of the plan, was most unhappy and only reconciled to the loss of her daughters by a fortnight in London purchasing wedding clothes.

The trip to London was shortly undertaken with the greatest expediency. Mr. Bennet had been applied to, and had granted, sufficient funds for a substantial enhancement of the wardrobes of both Jane and Elizabeth. Their suitors, well aware of the demands to be placed upon their betrothed when introduced to London society, had insisted upon, and allowed to have their way to Mrs. Bennet's great delight, a further enhancement of those wardrobes. Thus it was that the two young ladies accompanied by their mother, Mrs. Gardiner and frequently by Miss Darcy assaulted the milliners, drapers, cobblers and other such shops as provide those garments and accessories so essential for the proper appearance of a young lady when being introduced into society.

Suffice it to say that Mrs. Bennet's pleasure in the shopping experience was only exceeded on one occasion – that being the day those same daughters were finally wed. The patience and good natures of both her eldest daughters were sorely tried by the experience, not least because almost every purchase involved a battle with their mother over the proper amount and type of lace and trimmings that must be embodied in each dress. They, with the support and guidance of their aunt and Miss Darcy, were able to dissuade their mother from the fullest expression of that lady's preferences but she could not be overruled altogether and finally Elizabeth had to be consoled by her aunt's advice.

"Lizzy, remember that lace can be removed. Once you are married, you may do as you wish with the dresses."

The fortnight was not spent wholly in visiting the shops and Darcy and Bingley, although not allowed to claim much of their betrothed's attention for the first week – the ladies being too engaged in shopping in the day and rather too tired by the evening for much more than a quiet hour or so in their company – did assert a claim for the following week. Walks in Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens, a visit to Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens and an art exhibit were arranged and enjoyed by the two couples. Evenings saw them dining with the Gardiners, Darcys or Bingleys. Their most public outing involved a trip to the theatre and, for Elizabeth, the occasion was not dissimilar to that earlier event during their courtship. While no public announcement of their engagement had been promulgated, the news had been most gleefully made known by Mrs. Bennet during her shopping efforts. From the shops to a more general dissemination was but a short and quick step and their passage from the entrance of the theatre to the Darcy box was made torturous by the frequent impingement of those wishing to be introduced to the future Mrs. Darcy and, although less frequently, to the future Mrs. Bingley.

While society did on occasion intrude, such impositions were rarely discomfiting nor did they detract from the pleasure of the outing. The dinner at the Bingley home, with Miss Bingley acting as hostess with all of her most charming insincerities displayed, allowed Miss Bennet the opportunity to assess the furnishings of her future London residence. If the fixtures and furnishings were rather too ornate for her liking she hid it well, simply resolving that, once married, changes could be made as necessary. Her mother's suggestions and directives were received complacently and, since they were not too dissimilar in substance from those of Miss Bingley as reflected in the existing furnishings, were received with the fullest intent of being ignored. None of this showed on her countenance and neither Mrs. Bennet nor Miss Bingley were aware of Miss Bennet's inclinations; only Elizabeth, with whom Jane confided, and Mrs. Gardiner, from an appreciation of her niece's preferences, had an idea about her thoughts and intentions. Only in the Mistress' chambers was the touch of Miss Bingley absent. There Miss Bennet, although listening to her mother's directives, was clear in her instructions to the housekeeper. Such changes as were necessary, and not a few were, as the rooms had not been used for over ten years, reflected Miss Bennet's preferences, and Miss Bennet's preferences only – to her mother's considerable annoyance.

Elizabeth had visited Darcy House often during the early days of her courtship and had found little that required change and those too few and too minor to need immediate attention. The Mistress' chambers were, on the other hand, quite dated, not having been changed for more than twenty years. Knowing her mother's proclivities, Elizabeth allowed her mother to view them and dispense such advice as she believed important, nodding politely all the while; however, a separate, later viewing in company with only Mrs. Gardiner and the housekeeper was undertaken and those changes deemed necessary were identified. Since the wedding was not to take place until August, sufficient time existed to carry out the modifications required.

Perhaps the meeting most fraught with tension for Elizabeth was her introduction to Darcy's noble relations. She had, of course, already met Colonel Fitzwilliam and his amiability and gentleman-like manners had won her regard from their first meeting. She could but hope that his parents and siblings were equally amiable, although from the little that Darcy had revealed, this wish was not likely to be fully granted. Unwilling to face them without further knowledge, she posed her concerns to Darcy and begged that he be more forthcoming. With some reluctance, he complied.

"I am sure you have noticed my…hesitancy in answering your questions. The truth of the matter is that I am close only to Richard of my Fitzwilliam relations. My uncle, the Earl, and his wife are too much like my Aunt Catherine for my comfort; they are, I admit, not as overbearing as Aunt Catherine, nor are they as…as…blind to realities. But they are conscious of rank, not altogether welcoming to those of inferior station and apt to be almost as condescending as Aunt Catherine. It was always a marvel to me that Richard is so sensible and amiable – he is also not altogether happy with his parents' manners but, for the most part, his duties allow him separation and the ability to overlook their behaviour." He paused for several moments before pressing on, "I believe Richard's army career has much to do with it. He once said he had met too many decent, honourable men who held no rank to wish to attach too much importance to rank and station. If I remember correctly, his words were, 'I find it impossible to stand beside a man, born to a farmer's croft, who is prepared to die so that his friends might live, to attach much importance to the gift of birthright that belongs to a noble.'

"I like your cousin a great deal."

Darcy gazed out of the window but looked at her out of the corner of his eye, "I suspect that if his circumstances had been better, he might have pursued you very strongly. I have never seen him as much interested in a young woman."

Elizabeth knew he was seeking her assurances and was not reluctant to provide them. "His circumstances were not different, he made no effort to gain my affections and any pleasure that I took in his company was simply that provided by an amiable gentleman." She thought for a few moments before saying, "I believe you once claimed him to be as close as a brother to you. That is what he is to me as well – a brother." She grinned at him once more, "I have always wanted a brother and you have now gifted me with an exemplary one. Thank you!"

Reassured, he returned her smile, "I accept your thanks."

Elizabeth was not content to let the matter rest and returned to her original concerns, "I remember, when your Aunt Catherine…called upon me, your saying that your uncle knew better than to order you."

Darcy did not object to the change of topic and rejoined, "Yes, he has, on occasion attempted to impose his wishes on me. He and the Countess have applied to me more than once to marry someone they believe suitable. I met, and dismissed, all of their…candidates. The matter was quite an issue until I finally made it clear that I would wed as I chose and that I would not accept their importuning and that I would demand that any woman I did choose be accepted by the family." He grinned slightly at her, "You can imagine how well that was received; nevertheless, the prospect of an estrangement in the family was not something they wished to occur. They will accept you, Elizabeth. Of that and my love, you may be assured."

Elizabeth smiled wistfully, "It is to be a publicly polite, privately cold relationship then?"

Darcy could only acknowledge her words with a nod of the head and was forced to be content with stating, "They will be polite in public and in private. You may be assured of that. I will permit no disrespect."

The fearful event took place the day before they were to return to Longbourn. The Earl bore a marked resemblance to his sister, Lady Catherine, and his wife was a thin, stiff-featured woman a few years younger than her husband. Mrs. Bennet, whose exuberance and volubility would not endear themselves to the Earl or his wife, was convinced by the Gardiners to remain at Gracechurch Street that evening – reluctantly on her part since the prospect of a daughter attached to a titled family was one that she had previously never thought possible. As a consequence, the dinner was a small affair encompassing only Darcy and his sister, the Earl and his wife, Elizabeth and Jane and Bingley. The Colonel, who had hoped to attend, was required by his duties to absent himself; and, since, those duties involved the capture of Wickham, no one was prepared to complain about his nonappearance.

Elizabeth having found herself sitting at Darcy's right hand, with the Earl beside her and the Countess across the table, soon felt all the discomfit of her position. She remembered her initial reaction to Lady Catherine. She had felt no awe when introduced to that lady and, indeed, had quickly come to view her with amusement. Part of that reaction she knew was due to the knowledge that Lady Catherine was of little significance in her life and could not materially affect her future. She owed nothing to her other than the civility she bestowed on almost all her acquaintances. The situation, she told herself, was not much different with respect to the Earl and his wife except that they were a part of her soon-to-be family and, for her future husband's sake, she must attempt to ensure that relations between them remained civil. She had expected to be the object of many questions and was not disappointed.

Her introduction to them and the conversation that preceded their removal to the dining room was all that was civil and trivial. The manners of both Earl and Countess were polite, albeit somewhat distant and stiff. She hoped that, when seated at the table, they would relax and be more conversational. In this she was somewhat disappointed. The Countess initiated the conversation.

"Your sister is quite beautiful, Miss Elizabeth. I understand you have three more sisters at home."

"I do, your ladyship."

"My sister, Lady Catherine, tells me that they are all out and that your family never had a governess."

Darcy felt compelled to intercede, "Mr. Bennet's estate is not a large one, Aunt, and the cost of a governess might well have been onerous. Besides, Mr. Bennet is quite a clever gentleman and his daughters never wanted for such masters or education as they wished for."

Elizabeth smiled at him, "True, Mr. Darcy although I admit to a wish that my father had borne the expense." She looked at the Countess, "as for being out. It is true; while I might have wished that my youngest sisters had not been allowed the privilege, it would have been hard in our country setting, to deny them the pleasure and, as I told Lady Catherine, it would hardly have promoted sisterly affection between us." Elizabeth wondered what else Lady Catherine had imparted to her brother and could only believe with great confidence, that nothing kind or reasonable had been contained in the letter.

Neither the Earl nor the Countess appeared to take much pleasure from this information and shortly began to question her further and she felt the impertinence of their efforts and was about to respond in kind when Darcy intervened and murmured so as to prevent his voice carrying the length of the table.

"Aunt, uncle, I suggest you desist in these questions. I fear you have taken too much heed of Lady Catherine's complaints which, as you are both aware, stem mainly from her displeasure that I have refused to marry Cousin Anne." He glanced at them both before speaking in more normal tones, "Now, Elizabeth and I were fortunate enough to attend a recent performance …."

His relations allowed the introduction of a safe topic of conversation and gradually the mood at their end of the table eased and conversation meandered its way through plays, books, theatre and other such topics. The Countess and Earl both appeared to relax slightly and the latter, who spent much of his time at his country estate, began to discuss some of the problems he had recently encountered there and, while the Countess suggested that such topics were best reserved for when the gentlemen were enjoying their port after the meal, a question or two by Elizabeth kept his attention on the matter. Perhaps surprised that a woman would be interested in the topics, he was initially reluctant to discuss the particulars of the matter but close questioning made him forget his reservations and he began to expound in more detail. The Countess, perhaps piqued that her admonitions had been ignored, had several times begun to mention names of those prominent in her circle and, on each occasion, Darcy or Elizabeth, led the conversation back to topics that all could share. Finally the Countess directed her attentions towards Jane and Bingley and began an interrogation about Hertfordshire. Elizabeth was too tightly focused on listening to Darcy and his uncle that she had little attention to spare for the conversation being between the Countess and her sister and Bingley. She could only believe that they had acquitted themselves well – perhaps Jane's innate goodness and gentility had won the Countess' approbation - since her manner towards Elizabeth seemed to have softened when the ladies removed to the drawing room after the meal.

The remainder of the evening passed quietly and, if not one of the most enjoyable of her life to date, Elizabeth felt satisfied that she had done nothing to earn the disapprobation of her betrothed's closest relations. In fact, she rather thought she saw a slight smile of approval on the Countess' face when Elizabeth and Georgiana performed a duet that they had been practising. That Georgiana approved of her brother's choice for a wife, was comfortable in her presence and that Elizabeth was treating her with obvious respect and kindness must be discernible to even the most obtuse observer, and the Countess was not blinded so by prejudice.

As Darcy was to relate to Elizabeth the next morning as they were carried back to Longbourn, "My aunt and uncle are not disposed to give any more heed to Lady Catherine's objections. I will not pretend that they are overjoyed at my choice, Elizabeth. They are not. But they are also, neither of them, inclined to object either and they were more favourably impressed by you than they had anticipated." At her raised eyebrow, he chuckled, "I am sure that their opinion will continue to improve as they come to know you better. My uncle was rather astounded in regards to your interest in estate issues. My aunt does not discuss such matters with him at all."

Elizabeth glanced at her sister and mother but both had drifted off to sleep under the motion of the carriage and it was almost as though she and Darcy were totally alone. "I hope you will not follow his example, William."

"I have no intention of doing so. I would not waste your intelligence so – and it would indeed be a waste."

"Tis a very pretty compliment, sir, but you must know that…" another glance at her mother assured her that she remained asleep, "I have not been trained to the duties involved in being mistress of such a large estate as Pemberley is purported to be."

"No, I am aware of that, Elizabeth. It is of no significance. Pemberley and Darcy House have been without a Mistress for many, many years – since my mother died. They have functioned quite well nevertheless. I have every confidence that with the help of Mrs. Reynolds, who has held the position of housekeeper at Pemberley for more than twenty years, you will be quite able to assume the responsibilities"

His attention seemed to wander for a few seconds before he resumed, "You will make mistakes. I certainly did after I took over as Master from my father. But they will not be of lasting import and correctible. I have no worries, no concerns, in this regard."

Further conversation was prevented as Jane was roused from sleep when the carriage stopped to change horses and allow its passengers to refresh themselves. Within thirty minutes the carriage was once more rolling towards Longbourn and Elizabeth found herself napping for much of the remaining distance.


	24. Chapter 24

**A Good Time Had By All**

They had been at Pemberley for over a week now and only another week remained before they must return to Longbourn and their wedding. Pemberley was all and more than she had expected and Elizabeth found herself eagerly awaiting the day when she would sit as Mrs. Darcy and Mistress of Pemberley. If there was one cloud to mar the days that had passed, it was that Darcy himself had been so engaged with estate business as to allow him little time to share with her. This, he had promised, would soon change and by ensuring that his business was undertaken now, he was ensuring his leisure after their marriage. For, as he promised, their first month of married life would be devoted to her.

Darcy was sitting at the table enjoying his breakfast when Elizabeth came downstairs to join him and they were joined shortly thereafter by Georgiana, Bingley and Jane. The Gardiners had already breakfasted and were outside walking and playing with their children. As the five young people discussed their plans for the day, Mr. Reynolds entered with the day's post; prominent amongst which was a very thick letter that was laid beside Darcy.

Identifying the handwriting as that of Colonel Fitzwilliam – which he made known to the others – he begged their leave – which was granted - to open it directly and did so. That the letter contained important news was readily apparent from both the concentration and seriousness of his mien as he read and, when he finished, he was importuned by Elizabeth to share the news. After a few moments he chose to pass the letter to Elizabeth saying, "I believe you should read this – perhaps aloud to everyone."

 _"Netherfield Hall_

 _Hertfordshire_

 _Dear Couz,_

 _I must impart some important news, which I am sure you assumed from the thickness of the letter. I do not know if it is good or bad news since I accept that your feelings toward George Wickham are much more ambivalent than mine. For myself, I take great satisfaction and feel no regrets. The man has been a boil for years and lancing it gives me a definite measure of satisfaction._

 _To put it bluntly, Wickham has been captured and awaits a court-martial which I believe will take place within a matter of a fortnight or so. But, I am putting the cart before the horse – although I did so as to insure your relief as soon as was possible._

 _The tale is rather simple although not without being fraught with a significant degree of frustration on my part. As you know, we have been searching an increasing area in the neighbourhood around Longbourn as we progressed. We knew Wickham to be in the area but found few indications of his presence. Our searches did turn up a few vacant cottages in somewhat obscure corners and several showed signs of recent, albeit temporary, occupation but nothing that tied such to Wickham directly. It was not until we approached the River Stort, which borders Hertfordshire and Essex, that we began finding more traces of Wickham – at least, we believed them to be so anyway._

 _I do not know if you are familiar with the River Stort – I was not until recently and now know it better than I could wish – but it is quite a popular fishing spot and fishing cabins dot both sides of the river along certain stretches. We began to inspect each cabin on the Hertfordshire side and, although there were signs that many cabins had been used, it was not clear that they were used by anyone other than fishermen. In fact, we encountered numerous fishing parties during our efforts and, when questioned, none could say with any certainty that someone answering to Wickham's description had been observed. We searched thus for over a week with no success._

 _It was a matter of fortunate circumstance that led to our success. I had resolved to shift our efforts to the other side of the river when I happened to encounter young Robert Goulding at a dinner hosted by his family. I had not planned to attend but, frustrated by our lack of success, I resolved to seek some company to distract my thoughts. Besides, Miss Goulding is rather charming. I could wish she had a more substantial dowry. Ha! I can see you now shaking your head. Your lovely Miss Elizabeth is right in the generalities when she noted that I need a wife with a decent dowry. In the particulars, I believe her to be wrong. Fifty thousand pounds is much more than I require but twenty might serve me well! Alas Miss Goulding's portion falls much too short._

 _I am allowing myself to be diverted. Goulding asked how our searches are progressing and was as unhappy as I about our lack of success. Apparently many young women are finding the restrictions placed on their freedoms, by the threat of Wickham, to be unwelcome and are making their unhappiness known. Goulding's pleas for more effort on our part were joking but tinged with sincerity. When I described our efforts and where we had been searching, he thought that Wickham could easily be hiding along the river and asked if we had searched the woods fringing the river, stating that a number of cabins were secluded in those woods. This was a surprise to me and shows, upon reflection, that I should have included someone more knowledgeable about the area in our searches. I had assumed that the squad assigned to the search had become quite familiar with the area during the time they were quartered there. Such a stupid mistake._

 _Anyway, young Goulding offered to show us the cabins on the following day and so it was that we ventured out with him as our guide. It took us an hour or two to reach the woods which abut the river for almost a half mile and are almost as deep. We had not attempted to search them since the trails seemed sparse and we had not known of the presence of cabins. Goulding did not reveal why they had been built in such secluded spots but I suspect the owners did not have fishing rights to the river. In any event, he showed us several trails that led to a number of cabins and it was the third that we visited which provided a hope of success. We did not find Wickham but we did find clear evidence of his presence - including his uniform – and it appeared that he had used the cabin recently. We decided to hide two men close enough to the cabin to see if he returned. We changed the men every six hours, keeping ourselves to the cabin owned by the Gouldings, which is but a twenty minute ride distant. Three days later, we were successful as one of the men came to tell us that Wickham had returned to the cabin very late that night._

 _Unfortunately, we could not move through the path to the cabin until first light the next morning and, since it appears that several of the men assigned to me were born with two left feet, our progress was not as quiet as I could have wished. Wickham must have heard us because he made a bolt for the river. He appears to have secreted a boat on the shore and was in midstream when we reached the river. One of my men fired a warning shot which, I believe, must have frightened Wickham, because he fired back wounding Lieutenant Sanderson. Two of my men returned his fire and Wickham was wounded twice and knocked out of the boat. I must say I was impressed with their marksmanship. He was not an easy target. Goulding, who is quite familiar with the river, went in and managed to save him although I am not altogether convinced it was worth the effort or risk. Anyway, his wounds proved none too serious and won't save him from a court martial._

 _By the way, Sanderson was wounded in the leg but the bone was not broken and the surgeon expects him to heal nicely. It was an incredibly stupid thing for Wickham to do, although I suspect he was only trying to discourage us and had not aimed at Sanderson in particular. It could have been worse. He could have hit me! Ha!_

 _Anyway his actions have worsened the case against him and I doubt he can escape the noose. If he had simply surrendered, I suspect he might have gotten off with an assignment to the regulars fighting in Spain, or transportation. But wounding an officer – that will count very heavily against him._

 _I plan, at Colonel Forster's request, to escort Wickham, wounds and all, to Brighton tomorrow to face his court martial. He should be fit to be tried in a fortnight or so. I also met with the Bennet family to inform them of the particulars of Wickham's arrest and likely outcome. Mr. Bennet was, as I am sure you can appreciate, much relieved at the news and expressed his appreciation for all our efforts. His daughters also appeared very relieved although Miss Lydia seemed somewhat disconsolate – does she still harbour a fancy for Wickham do you think? If so, I am sure that Mr. Bennet is doubly relieved since she is just the type that Wickham enjoyed preying on – young and foolish!_

 _Unfortunately, I must remain in London until the court martial is concluded. I will, however, keep you fully abreast of any further developments. Give my best to all your guests. I am sure they will be most relieved at the news I have imparted._

 _Yours,_

 _Richard Fitzwilliam"_

Silence reigned for a full minute before Mr. Gardiner broke it by saying, "I cannot grieve his possible fate too much. I do not know what he could have done but I am sure it would bode poorly for our family."

Elizabeth first thought was for Darcy. He was, even for him, uncommonly quiet and, in a moment of inspiration, she realized that this news engendered mixed feelings in him; she resolved to speak of it with him as soon as an opportunity presented. Since he appeared to have little appetite and she herself had finished eating, she induced him to walk with her and, by her manner, indicated to the others that she wished for some privacy. To allay any fears of her uncle about propriety, she directed Darcy's footsteps towards the formal garden behind the house. As soon as they were assured of privacy, she began thus, "This news has discomposed you greatly. Will you not speak to me about it?"

Darcy led her towards a bench and, after seating her, sat himself beside her, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. She had rarely seen him perturbed but waited for him to speak, knowing he would do so when he was ready. Several minutes passed until he finally sat upright: "You know much of my history with Wickham, do you not?" she assented and he continued, "We were boys together. For many years, he was the closest thing I had to a brother. I was perhaps closer to him as a child than I was to Richard….I cannot help but feel that loss. George betrayed me, he betrayed Georgiana and he even betrayed my father - although he never knew of it; and yet….I cannot wish his death." He rubbed his eyes, "I had thought – expected – that he would be punished by transportation. That would have satisfied my desire for revenge – and lest you think poorly of me, I admit such a desire is most unchristian – but I feel it nonetheless and will make no apology for it."

"I would neither expect nor ask that of you! Your anger and disgust, I can easily understand …understand and share, in fact. When I think of his actions towards Georgiana, I am filled with such disgust as to amaze me. I should never wish to feel so about another being."

Darcy gave her a small smile and placed her hand between his own, "It is good to talk of him with you."

Elizabeth encouraged him to stand and begin to stroll the garden path arm-in-arm with her and then prompted him to remember those happier times with Wickham. Their return to the house some hours later saw them not happier but more content and at peace with the life and fate of George Wickham. His miniature was removed from the mantelpiece where it had sat from the time of Darcy's father. And with its removal, the last vestiges of Wickham were removed from Pemberley; they would have no cause to speak his name in the future. As Darcy finally said, "He had so much given to him, so many opportunities but he could only see the pleasures of a gentleman's life, he saw or would not see any of its responsibilities. He had no concern for the welfare of anyone other than himself."

The remainder of their stay at Pemberley passed much as the first part although the press of business no longer weighed on Darcy as it had. He and Elizabeth were able to enjoy daily walks of some duration, suitably chaperoned of course, in the process of which their knowledge and comfort with the other improved. Their other guests could not be ignored and Elizabeth, Jane and Mrs. Gardiner enjoyed travelling to Lambton to visit acquaintances of Mrs. Gardiner. That those people would become acquainted with the future Mrs. Darcy was an additional benefit and before they had returned to Longbourn the reports of her kindness and friendliness had been spread widely. The gentlemen were equally well amused and, to the delight of Mr. Gardiner, he was encouraged to exploit the streams of Pemberley to such an extent that the fish population had been seriously compromised although Pemberley's cook was more than eager to add the product of his efforts to their dinners. Between fishing, shooting and riding the gentlemen had no shortage of activities to engage their attentions.

A week after receiving the news of Wickham's capture, the Pemberley party made the trip back to Longbourn and a fortnight later….well, suffice it to be known that Elizabeth and Jane Bennet wed Fitzwilliam Darcy and Charles Bingley respectively, as planned, in a double wedding in August. What is there to say about the ceremony itself that has not been said countless times before? Every wedding is unique to the couple being married. For Elizabeth the only part she carried away to treasure was the exchange of vows. To hear the man she was to call husband for the remainder of her life say, with more tenderness and assurance than she had ever previously heard him express, "I, Fitzwilliam, take thee Elizabeth, to my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth."

When the Reverend took Darcy's right hand, giving it to Elizabeth to hold in hers, she could not tear her eyes away from Darcy's as she repeated: "I, Elizabeth, take thee Fitzwilliam, to my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth."

She never felt more right, more certain of her decision than at that moment. Darcy was to reveal afterwards that, for him, as moving as the exchange of vows had been, he remembered most the feeling of joy when he placed the ring on her finger and pledged, "With this ring, I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

It was, as he admitted later, the happiest and most frightening moment of his life. He had been almost overwhelmed when he had to take on responsibility for Pemberley and his sister after his father's death but now the well-being and happiness of one he loved more than anyone had been placed in his hands. As he murmured to her as they drove away from the church, "This is my private pledge to you, Elizabeth. You shall never have cause to doubt my love and respect for you, and our children, all the days of my life."

"Nor shall you ever have cause to doubt mine, my love!"

Mrs. Bennet's effusions of happiness that followed the ceremony would not have been restrained if not for the preceding fortnight in which her two eldest daughters were paraded once more throughout the neighbourhood to the point of exhaustion for all three of them and the neighbours upon whom they had been forced. If the truth were known, Mrs. Bennet required a whole month's quietude to recover from her endeavours to the pleasure of her remaining daughters and her husband.

The newly wedded couples were understandably eager to depart after the ceremony and, while required to attend the wedding breakfast where, once more Mrs. Bennet's preparations were extensive, exhaustive and excessive, they could not be persuaded to remain more than an hour before summoning their carriages and taking their leave. The Darcys were bound for Pemberley - a trip to The Peaks for a month's wedding tour had been considered but discarded in favour of a month's solitude at Pemberley; while Mr. and Mrs. Bingley had chosen to travel to Scarborough and Yorkshire, there to visit Mr. Bingley's relatives for a month and then to return to Pemberley for a month. Both couples would then voyage to Town to take part in the fall season. And on this cheerful note we will take our leave of the happy couples - our story done, our tale told.


	25. Chapter 25

**Epilogue**

April 1862

"Walk with me."

He took his last sip of coffee – he only allowed himself a cup in the mornings now – before rising from his chair. She noticed the suppressed grimace as he did so – he found the dampness of the early April morning harder on his joints than she – but said nothing – what was the point. They both had their share of aches and twinges but neither of them had the power to reverse time. He grasped her hand as firmly as ever and, hand-in-hand, left the breakfast room together.

"I am glad to get out before the children descend on us. I love them dearly, Lizzie, but the exuberance is more than I wish to bear so early."

"I know. That is why I am absconding with you now."

They walked in the comfortable quiet that fifty years of marriage endows. Their occasional comments frequently needed little more than a chuckle or a nod of the head in response. It was not that all sources of conversation between them had been exhausted - rather the reverse if truth were known - but today remained very special to them both. In the fifty years of their marriage, they had failed to visit Rosings Park on only three occasions. The first being the year following their marriage when Lady Catherine had yet to reconcile to their marriage and twice when Elizabeth's confinements had precluded their travel.

Their feet carried them to the grove where their life together had its roots. A bench had been placed there some forty years ago – Elizabeth had been quite pregnant at the time and, while still quite capable of walking for some duration, found it helpful to rest periodically. Grandmama's bench, it was called, although Elizabeth teased her husband that it could now just as easily be called Grandpapa's bench since he welcomed its presence as much as she.

"Fifty years" sighed she.

"Hhhmm."

She could see his thoughts turn reflective and she knew he was remembering the past. "I hope, William, that your thoughts of the past are only the pleasant ones."

His response was slow as he considered her words. "Of course, my dear. I am allowed nothing else, am I?"

She responded to his tease with a chuckle, "Very well, you may continue them then."

Gradually the view before her receded as her own thoughts travelled the course of fifty years. Their marriage ceremony had been wonderful – despite her mother's best efforts – and their month alone at Pemberley – she had eschewed a wedding trip in preference to being at Pemberley with her new husband – had been everything she could have hoped for. Even now, fifty years later, she could not but remember those days and nights of intimacy with a flush of pleasure. She had not realized there could be so many private places in the Pemberley park in which she could be intimate with William – so many, in fact, that it had taken them almost ten years to discover the last and even then she wondered if the presence of their children had not inhibited further exploration. As it was, they had almost been intruded upon more than once during those years. She glanced sideways through her lashes to see if her husband had noticed her flush but he seemed absorbed by his own thoughts and not unpleasant ones if the small smile on his lips was an indication.

She could not be sure if any of her children had been conceived during one of those moments though the timing of her fourth was rather auspicious in that regard. She thought happily of her family. To have given birth to six children, four of them sons to carry on the Darcy name, and seen them survive into adulthood, all of them married with children of their own – she had six and twenty grandchildren for heaven's sake and almost as many great-grandchildren, with more to come – was no little accomplishment. The Darcy family had grown to the point where Pemberley could barely contain all of their numbers and, indeed, when Georgiana's family were included, it was filled to overflowing. She had married a gentleman whose estate in Shropshire was only a day's travel distant from Pemberley – and now only a few hours with the advent of trains. Such proximity had ensured frequent visits between his estate, Pemberley and Amberdown, where the Bingleys had finally settled when they left Netherfield a year after their marriage. Georgiana provided her husband with a brood of children, two sons and three daughters, over the course of their marriage but her passing some fifteen years ago after a prolonged illness had left him desolate and his own decline and death some two years later had not been unanticipated. Fortunately, the children were now all married with families of their own and the connection with their Darcy cousins remained as strong as ever, to the point where two of Elizabeth's grandchildren had each married one of Georgiana's grandchildren.

Jane and Charles had been similarly blessed with a healthy brood of offspring – all of them a healthy mixture of the reserve and amiable natures of their parents. How could they be otherwise, she thought, given the characters of their parents. Oddly enough, as close as the Bingley and Darcy families were, none of the Darcy children or grandchildren had formed an attachment with a Bingley cousin.

She could not help but consider her other sisters. Her father had been persuaded – and her mother had not raised any serious objections – to send Catherine and Lydia for schooling. Mary had spent several years with her two older sisters and received much benefit from their society and exposure to such masters as would advance her musical abilities. If she did not become truly proficient, her performances were subsequently greeted with much more pleasure than in the past – particularly since she no longer endeavoured to accompany herself vocally. Mary never married but had remained at Longbourn upon the death of her father, some fifteen years after Elizabeth's marriage, to live with the Collinses. Mrs. Bennet, of course, would not reside there and had taken up residence in Meryton with her sister Mrs. Philips, herself widowed for some five years by that time. They lived quite happily together, gossiping endlessly about their numerous grandchildren and ensuring that all of Meryton was not unaware of the splendid matches made by the Bennet sisters. Both ladies had been in their graves for twenty years or more.

Catherine and Lydia both married well, if not as prominently as their elder sisters. Their husbands were respectable men able to provide comfortably for their large families. That these husbands were both more closely tied to trade than Mrs. Bennet could perhaps have wished was of lesser consequence than the size of their respective incomes and – to Mr. Bennet's satisfaction – their ability to esteem and respect their wives. For, instead of being the two silliest girls in the country, Lydia and Catherine had developed into moderately sensible young women and, if neither was as intelligent as Elizabeth or possessed the decorum of Jane, they never gave their husbands cause to question their behaviour. Both lived in London and were frequent visitors with the Darcys when they could be persuaded to come to Town.

Elizabeth could not think of Longbourn without regret. After her father's death, they had little cause to travel to Longbourn and the changes that had taken place there under the guidance of Mr. Collins had distressed her greatly. She had hoped that Charlotte's sensibleness would guide and direct Mr. Collins in managing the estate. That, unfortunately, was proven to be wishful thinking. Mr. Collins was not a sensible man and Charlotte's ability to manage him in her personal life could not apparently be extended to management of the estate. His inability to accept any advice that did not emanate from Lady Catherine and the years he had ignored his wife's guidance in preference to that of her ladyship, had ill-equipped him to listen to his wife's advice. A steward who was more interested in promoting his own interests and fully aware of his master's ignorance had not worked to the benefit of the estate or the Collinses.

The ending of the war against Napoleon had caused problems for all estates as the high prices that had supported the lifestyle had fallen and estate incomes as well. Even Pemberley had to retrench. Longbourn, under her father's rather indolent management had not fared as well and when Mr. Collins took over, the situation deteriorated even more. It was perhaps fortunate that Mr. Collins had died some ten years after her father – a love of eating and a distaste for exercise had eventually overtaxed his heart. His son inherited Longbourn from his father and good sense from his mother and he had gradually reversed much of the damage inflicted by his predecessors - foremost amongst which was the removal of the steward. Longbourn, if not affluent, eventually returned to producing a respectable living and, oddly enough, young William Collins had married a Bingley daughter and the Bennet line was once more established at Longbourn.

Lady Catherine had resisted acknowledging her nephew's marriage to Elizabeth until the birth of his son, and the Darcy heir, a year after the marriage. She, and her daughter, attended the christening and comported herself civilly with Elizabeth, although heard on more than one occasion to mutter about the impertinence of his wife and that her own daughter would have done as well. For her part, Anne was quite happy with her circumstances and confessed to Elizabeth a private relief that she was not to wed. The prospect of childbirth was viewed by her with trepidation rather than appreciation. Sadly, Anne did not outlive her mother; her poor healthy and a severe winter in 1822 combined with widespread illness claimed her life. Lady Catherine was finally persuaded, a few years after Darcy's marriage, to acknowledge that Anne would not wed and give birth to an heir for Rosings Park. She was further persuaded by her brother, the Earl, to name Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam as the heir presumptive and to allow him, some five years before his cousin's passing, to take on the management of the estate. The change in his fortunes afforded the Colonel to opportunity to retire from the military; within a year he had married – a most sensible young woman of modest means but impeccable connections – and, five years later, was the father of two children. He and his wife resided at the Dower House until Lady Catherine's death ten years after her daughter's – living with her ladyship on a daily basis not being desired by either of them – at which time they removed to the manor house with an even larger family.

The Darcys had visited Rosings Park at Easter two years after their encounters in the groves that abutted the estate and returned every year (but three) afterwards, accompanied by children and, in later years, by grandchildren. When the Darcy heir, young Bennet Darcy, met and eventually married his cousin, Rachel Fitzwilliam, in his twenty-sixth year, Lady Catherine's wish to see a connection between Rosings and Pemberley was finally granted, although she would have been greatly displeased that the two young people's marriage was founded on a mutual esteem and affection that had begun and grown over the years of those annual visits. That young Rachel had spurned the attentions of the heir to a dukedom to wed Bennet Darcy would have displeased Lady Catherine greatly. But that is another story.

Finis


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